Storm Warning
by kittykatkaren97
Summary: All America ever wanted was to be a hero for the people he cared about. But when he unintentionally entwine's his fate with another's, will he be able to stay true to himself even as he learns the dark secrets of the past? - AU Pirate!England
1. The Storm

"_There's a big storm coming. I can feel it in the air."_

"_What? Don't be stupid, there isn't a cloud in the sky!"_

_~0~0~0~_

"Sailing these waters is illegal for a pirate. So, as such, it's up to a hero like me to bring justice!"

"Oh, so you're a hero, are you? Tell me, mister hero, what exactly is it that I'm doing wrong?"

"I just told you, didn't I? Unless you can show me your ship registration papers, this is an unidentified ship, and therefore must be brought into custody," America said smugly to the pirate captain before him. The hero had stopped next to the ship and boarded it – officially, because making a mistake now would be bad – and been met by a shorter man with choppy, sandy blond hair and fiery green eyes. To be honest, the captain's hat was the only way that America could tell that he was the one in charge, although maybe it was his attitude, too.

The pirate was silent for a few seconds before he responded, eyes flashing. "And how to you plan to do that, precisely?"

A surge of anger welled up inside of America; this pirate was mocking him! Him – a hero! Heroes were supposed to be respected, not a laughing stock! Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax, and gave the man a level glare. "What's your name, pirate?"

The use of the word – or perhaps the tone of America's voice – caused indignation to flare up in the captain's expression. America felt a tinge of satisfaction. "England," the pirate said. _"Captain_ England. And you – I couldn't care less who you are – can get off my ship before I throw you overboard."

America couldn't help but grin at the threat, barely suppressed laughter showing in his own blue eyes. _Whoa, this guy totally has a sense of humor!_ he thought. _There's no way a crummy pirate could take down a hero like me, even if he is the captain!_

England, on the other hand, looked taken aback. "What is so funny, git?" he demanded.

By now, America was cracking up. "Dude," he choked out between chuckles, "it's just that you're," England contemplated simply murdering him right then, "you're a pirate, and you're threatening me. A hero! Ha!"

The pirate captain twitched, resisting the rather strong urge to slit the other man's throat. His crew should be ready and waiting for the signal to attack, and he could practically smell the storm getting closer. It was going to be a big one.

The only sounds on the near deserted deck were the waves and America's peeling laughter. Finally, by some miracle, he managed to regain control once again. "Well, if you're not going to cooperate…" he spoke to England before turning back to his own ship, calling out to Lithuania, his informant and first mate. "Ready!"

It was an obvious signal, and at it, half a dozen of America's men surged across the planks onto the pirate ship deck. Maybe half a dozen wasn't quite necessary to do this, considering the only threat they could see were England and one other man on the deck who America assumed to be the pirate's first mate – if they used that term, America wasn't quite an expert on pirate vocabulary.

_My men,_ America thought proudly. All of the years of training had paid off: he had been made an Admiral and given his own ship. And now, this would be his first squirmish as an Admiral.

It surprised him when England drew his sword with confidence, as if to challenge all twelve – thirteen, America included – of the men at once. The right-hand man readied himself too, and within a second they were both surrounded. There were no moves to fight or resist, America mused, watching England. England, who just a second ago seemed so defiant.

Then he smirked.

"If you say so," England addressed America loudly, _"Captain."_

And all of Hell broke loose. Cannons fired, causing both ships to rock. Then America realized something; the cannons were fired at his ship! The word 'captain' was some kind of signal! He turned back to England, only to find that the pirate had disappeared.

_Darn it._ He looked around the deck, hoping to spot him, and saw that there was now an equal amount of his men and pirates – and it didn't look good. America's men were still shaken by the sudden attack. _Darn it._ Dodging around a few people, he made his way around the deck in an attempt to find the captain, but ended up coming face-to-face with the first mate, a man around his build with shaggy, short silver hair and red eyes. _Darn it._

"In a hurry?" he asked before lunging at America, who hardly managed to draw his own sword to block in time.

"Not to see you, that's for sure." He needed to find the captain! Heroes couldn't just waste their time like this!

America had to admit that this man was better at wielding a sword than him, and he struggled just to keep up. "Oh, looking for England, then?" America blocked another blow. "Is the awesome Prussia not enough to satisfy you?"

_No, this isn't happening! I can't be losing!_ America desperately tried to escape Prussia, but the other man was too fast for him. Heroes don't lose to pirates!

"America!"

He hardly heard Lithuania shouting his name; he was too distracted. The entire ship rocked violently, and he vaguely made out England bark out orders to his crew. Prussia relented his attack, and everyone else seemed to scramble.

"America, come on! We have to go!" Lithuania called again, louder and clearer this time.

Looking up, America realized why: a storm had hit. Not just an average storm, but a huge storm. Giant waves knocked the two boats around, and the planks between the two threatened to fall at any moment. Most of his men were back over on their own ship, waving at him frantically. They were waiting for him.

They were waiting for him! Without another glance at Prussia, America ran to the edge of the ship. Fortune was not on his side today, as the planks gave way right before he reached them. Luckily, everyone else had crossed.

_I guess I have no choice then._ America prepared to jumped the growing gap, but someone grabbed the collar of his coat, pulling him back onto the deck. "Going somewhere, Admiral?"


	2. Nightmares

"_America!"_

Lithuania bolted up in his bed, startled awake by the realness of his nightmare. But, of course, his nightmare _was_ real. The precious admiral of the SS Hero had been captured by pirates. No one expected it to happen – what, with all America's talk about how heroes never lose to pirates – but that didn't stop it. Now all Lithuania could do was hope that America was still alive.

He could only hope.

~0~0~0~

_Man, I'm so hungry!_

America's stomach growled insistently, urging for food that he couldn't get. Why couldn't he get it? Because he was tied to a stupid chair. _Stupid, stupid chair. Standing in the way of me and food._

Or, to be more specific, he was tied to a chair under the deck of a pirate ship. He had to admit, however, that the ship was a lot… well, cleaner than he had expected it to be. Although, admiring the polished floors didn't take his mind off his hunger.

He tried to call out for England, but the gag tied around his mouth muffled any attempts._ I sure hope they bring me some food soon. Starving to death would be so unheroic._

~0~0~0~

England hadn't expected the run-in with the admiral's ship, and he certainly didn't expect the headache that came along with dealing with the man. The pirate had tried to question him, but all he really got was that his name was America, he was convinced he was some kind of hero, he hated pirates, and that England would be "so sorry once he got out". They let this idiot become an admiral? The standards must be really low these days.

No matter.

It wouldn't do to let him starve, since he was their only leverage if his men came back. Not that England doubted his own crew; it was just that his own ship had taken enough damage as it was, both from the battle and the storm.

~0~0~0~

After ten minutes of trying, America finally got the gag off of his mouth just enough to yell, "England! I'm hungry, is there any food?"

A few seconds later the door opened and an irritated looking England walked in. "Shouldn't you be more worried about escaping than stuffing yourself? After all, it must be so _unheroic_ to be captured by pirates," the captain asked, emphasizing the word 'unheroic' mockingly.

"Starving to death would be even more unheroic!" America complained. "And I can't escape on an empty stomach!"

"Fine." England sighed. "I'll–"

"England!"

England didn't get to finish his sentence as Prussia burst through the door. Again, he sighed, angered at being interrupted. "What is it, Prussia?"

"The awesome me spotted a ship coming, with its flag raised in a request to board the ship." Seeing America's hopeful expression, Prussia added, smirking, "And it's not the hero ship."

The admiral's face fell. So it wasn't his men… Too bad. It would've been heroic for them to come save him – not as heroic as America, but pretty dang close – but he supposed his ship would need repairs before they could launch their Rescue Mission.

There was a commotion on the upper deck, and America could only assume that it was the other ship boarding. Silence reigned for a minute before a cheery voice called out. "Ah! Yes, I just came to visit. England wouldn't happen to be on board, would he? It'd be helpful if you could tell me where he is."

~0~0~0~

"_Hola, capitan de Inglaterra!"_ the man greeted as he entered the room, having been given directions by another crew member. "Long time no see, ah?"

"Spain," England recognized. Prussia nodded in greeting.

America looked the newcomer over, eternally confused. He has curly, dark brown hair and bright green eyes, and the admiral wondered if he too were a pirate. What else would make sense, considering? Although, this guy was way different than America had ever imagined pirates as being. He was too… friendly looking.

"I still don't see why we had to come. It still seems like a complete waste of time," another voice said, the owner of it coming in after Spain.

Spain looked back at the new-newcomer. (How many people were there?) "Now, Romano, don't be so pessimistic. There's nothing wrong with visiting _amigos, si_?"

Romano, too, hardly looked anything like a pirate. In fact, he hardly seemed of age, with reddish-brown hair that had one stubborn curl in it, tempered golden eyes, and a build scrawnier than England's. Granted, Romano was taller…

"He does have a point, though," England cut in before Romano could say anything. "Not that it isn't nice to see you, Spain, but why are you here?"

~0~0~0~

"_Comment allez-vous_, Lithuania? You seem down."

Lithuania sighed. They had just gotten the ship back to the base when France greeted him. How was Lithuania supposed to break the news that America had been captured by pirates? He dreaded the very thought. How Canada would react to the news was beyond him, considering it was America's little brother.

"A-America… he…" the informant tried to find the right words, "he's not…"

France blinked, thankfully smart enough to catch on. "He's gone? _Merde_… Where is he?" Lithuania didn't respond. "He's not dead, is he?"

This time, the younger man shook his head. "N-no, he's not… I don't think… at least…"

"Pirates?" France guessed. They always were an issue.

Now someone just had to break it to Canada.

~0~0~0~

"So, I thought you might be in trouble, England, but you seem to be managing things well," Spain explained. "Although, your ship is a bit battered up. Is that from your run-in with," he glanced at America, "The Hero?"

America couldn't ask if Spain meant him or his ship, as England had stuffed the cloth back into his mouth. Other than that, this was the first time any of them have acknowledged him in the slightest, and America found that it was really annoying. After all, heroes weren't supposed to be ignored. Totally unheroic.

Not that anyone else seemed to care.

Spain had evidently been not that far away when America and England fought, and a merchant ship had informed him of the cannon fire and whatnot after the storm had passed. So here he was, checking up on his friend. America didn't know that pirates even had friends.

Then again, by now, nothing should have been surprising to him.

"Unfortunately." England sighed. "However, I do have someone that'll help repair the ship, so that's not much of a problem. And I do believe that we should be arriving soon."

"Switzerland?" Spain mused. "He does owe you a favor, _si_? His island's only about half a day's sailing from where we are, isn't it?"

England nodded. "Yes, it is."

"Awesome!" Prussia yawned and stretched.

_Today isn't a good day,_ America thought, stomach still growling. _But wait…. If we're stopping, then this could be my big chance to escape!_


	3. A Pain

"What do you mean, America's been captured by _pirates_?"

In the end, France had been the one to tell Canada, who obviously wasn't taking it very well. The outburst France received proved to him that, indeed, he was America's brother. Not as reckless, thank the Lord for that, but he could still he loud at times.

"Yes," France sighed, "he has been. I don't know the whole story, though. I believe Lithuania is currently filling the fleet admiral in."

Canada calmed himself down. "We have to save him."

"_Je sais_, but what can we do? We don't even know where he is."

~0~0~0~

"So who is this Switzerland guy anyway?"

America (once again) had managed to get rid of the gag that kept him from talking. England was starting to realize how much the admiral's voice annoyed him. He shot America an annoyed glare before turning to Spain. "If I killed him now, would you say anything?"

Spain chuckled, looking at America, who had cringed slightly at the word 'kill'. "Ah, but I thought you were avoiding doing anything illegal, England? Or that may have just been the impression that I've been getting."

The response confused America for a second, before he broke out into hysterical laughter. "A pirate trying not to do anything illegal? You do realize that kidnapping is illegal, don't you?"

England shrugged. "It isn't my fault you boarded my ship and failed to get off, now is it?"

This immediately shut America up, much to the captain's satisfaction. The three of them were currently the only ones in the room, and until America could talk again, it had been fairly quite. That is, until he initiated the game of twenty-questions.

~0~0~0~

"_Oui,_ Canada, I know that he's your brother, but calm down."

"I am calm," Canada insisted, and to anyone that hardly knew him, he appeared to be.

But France wasn't going to fall for it. "We should at least come up with some kind of plan before acting, no? Honestly, you and America can be such a pain."

"Yeah, getting kidnapped by pirates is such a pain, isn't it?"

~0~0~0~

_Dude, this is such a pain._

_England could have at least left on the light._ But no, America had to sit in the cold, dark room all alone._ I didn't realize that this job would be such a pain._ He was sure that he had gotten rug burn or something from how tightly England had tied the gag back around his mouth. The only thing he had to take comfort in was the way the ship rocked in the waves. If there was something America loved, it was that feeling.

_I wish I could enjoy it on my own ship, though._

And he still hadn't gotten anything to eat.

~0~0~0~

"Spain!" England called, approaching the other captain. He and Romano were speaking together in hushed voices, the latter seeming extremely angry.

Spain looked at him and grinned. "Ah, England. _Si_, what is it?"

England stopped beside him. "I wanted to thank for coming."

"No problem_, mi amigo,_ but you make it sound as if we're leaving immediately."

The younger captain blinked in surprise. "You mean…?"

"If that's alright, I was planning on having the _Espa__ῆ__a_ accompany you to Switzerland's."

Well, that explained why Romano was so crossed. "That's fine, but may I ask why?" England queried. The request shouldn't have been that unusual, coming from Spain, but it had taken him aback either way. And, after all, there had to be some reason.

"That storm was a big one, and _me y mi personal _are a bit shaken up, so I figured that it would be good for all of us to take a vacation of sorts. "

Sighing, England nodded. "Makes sense. We're almost there anyway."

~0~0~0~

The door opening and the lights flicking on startled America, who would have jumped had it not been for the binding. _I wasn't dozing off. I wasn't dozing off._ He turned his head to glare whoever it was, but the look melted when his eyes fell on a pretty girl holding food. His stomach rumbled loudly at the sight, drawing a giggle from across the room.

The girl came over to him, and America noticed she had shoulder-length blond hair with a green headband, as was wearing a rather pirate-y looking red and black dress that went to her knees. She set down the food, unbound his hands, and removed the gag from his mouth.

"Thanks!" America said as soon as he could talk. "You are like, totally my savior right now!"

"Even though I'm a prate?" She raised an eyebrow.

Assuming the food was for him, America reached to grab it, only to have his hands swatted away. "Planning to stuff yourself without proper introductions?" the girl scolded teasingly. He looked her over. At first glance, she didn't seem like much of a pirate, but then again, almost no one here did.

"Well," he shrugged sheepishly, "I'm just really hungry, and…"

She laughed. "Hungry? Gee, and here I thought you were some 'Admiral America' or something. It's nice to meet you, Hungry. Name's Belgium."

America had to admit that he was a bit taken by surprise by this girl's attitude. "Actually, my name is America. But why the food? I didn't think I would get fed at all. It's not poison, is it?" he rambled.

"England told me to bring it to you." Belgium shrugged. "Said something about how much dead bodies reek or whatever. He also wanted me to let you know that we'll be arriving to our destination soon. Oh, and no, I'm pretty sure the food isn't poison."

"Your destination?" He glanced questioningly at the food, and Belgium nodded. "Switzerland, right?"

The food was just a basic sandwich, but at the moment, it was the best sandwich America ever had. Hunger did weird things. Even if it wasn't a hamburger, it was still edible food.

"England or Spain or someone said something about Switzerland owing England a favor," America continued, mumbling around his mouthful of food.

"That's right," Belgium confirmed. "A good thing too, since most people aren't willing to help pirates."

He swallowed. "Oh, right, that makes sense. But can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Why are you a pirate?"

Again, she laughed. "That's kind of a personal question to ask someone you hardly know, isn't it?"

"You don't have to answer," America sighed. "I was just curious. I hadn't realized that pirates could be girls."

Belgium considered him for a moment before shaking her head. "I don't mind. My story isn't as personal or tragic as some pirates. It just… worked out for my brother and me."

This piqued his interest. "Worked out? You mean you haven't always been a pirate?"

"I've been a pirate for as long as England's been a captain. Any more than that, I'm sure he wouldn't want you snooping on, considering you're navy."

America finished off his food. "Yeah, about England. What's his deal? He's so uptight. And does he expect me not to try and escape if he just stops somewhere?"

The last question earned him another laugh and an amused look. "Well, good luck escaping. Seriously, if that's your plan, you'll need it."

_~0~0~0~_

"_Oye! Are you okay? Hey!"_

_The boy – who couldn't be more than fifteen – looked up at him, startled. He was covered in blood, but not all of it could be his own blood; he was still standing, after all. Bodies littered the ground around him, none of them… well, alive. It looked like a scene from a horror story. And it very well could have been._

"_Wh-who are you?"_


	4. Union Jack

The fleet admiral, China, nodded as Lithuania told his story, listening in grave silence until the end. There was a pause when Lithuania finished talking, and China took it all in. "So," China summed it up slowly, "what you're telling me is that you had a run-in with a pirate ship, and they captured Admiral America."

Lithuania nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Which pirates were they?"

The question took the younger man by surprise, but it made sense. They had information on all major pirate ships, and it would only make sense if they were on the record, considering they had overpowered a navy ship. Lithuania had seen their flag, and racked his brain for the name of it. Why hadn't he thought of it sooner, or gotten a better look at it?

"Take your time, aru," China allowed, much to the informant's relief.

It was strange, not being able to come up with the answer, especially to Lithuania, who had always been able to take some pride in knowing things. Now, though, he was drawing a blank. The crew had seemed small to him, but he couldn't be too sure.

"S-sorry," Lithuania apologized. "I can't…" But then, of course, it hit him. How could he not have recognized the flag immediately? It was one of the most well known among the seas. "The Union Jack!"

He may've been sure of it, but China seemed doubtful. No, he _was _doubtful. Undeniably so. "Are you sure?"

Lithuania nodded. "Yes, yes, I'm sure." Although, now that he remembered… "That ship is said to have been…"

"Wiped out completely."

~0~0~0~

America leaned up against the rail next to England. "Land ho, Captain."

Maybe it wasn't the best idea, but he was curious and wanted answers. Belgium told him specifically not to leave the room until someone came to get him, but hey, he wasn't tied up anymore and why not take a walk? If only to bother the captain.

England shot him an annoyed glare but didn't say anything.

Fine, it only made it more entertaining. "So, Captain, how long have you held that title?" America tried, maybe hoping to possibly strike a nerve. Anything to get a reaction, really.

"What's it to you, git?"

"Not much." The admiral shrugged. "But I do want to know. You look a bit young to have that power."

"And you." England snorted.

America was split, not knowing which he wanted more – a rise or answers. He went with a rise, because it seemed like it would be more entertaining. "So, do dead bodies really stink that bad?"

Something flickered in the pirate's eyes that he couldn't place. "You wouldn't know?"

It sounded like an insult, with an undertone of pure loathing. America decided to change the subject, not willing to be threatened again. "So why does this Switzerland guy owe you a favor?"

Cue vague answer. "I did something for him."

"Yeah, that usually does the trick." The admiral rolled his eyes. "Specifically?"

"That's hardly any of your business."

The whole time they talked, the island grew closer. Hardly anyone else could be seemed to be in sight. Whatever, America thought. They probably all have some kind of job to do. Against his will, his mind conjured up an image of his own crew, but he pushed it away.

~0~0~0~

Wiped out completely or not, Lithuania couldn't have mistaken the flag for anything. It was too one-of-a-kind. "I'm sure that was it."

China trusted this judgment, however doubtful he was. He would look into it, at least. There was the possibility that it was a phony ship, sailing around with the same flag. The thought was hardly considered; there was no way some frauds would be able to pull off what they did. Was it possible that the Union Jack still sailed…? This notion too seemed iffy.

Iffy, but all they had to go on. "Did you see the captain?"

"Yes." Lithuania nodded.

"How old was he?"

Lithuania thought it was an odd question, but he wasn't one to argue. The fleet admiral must have his reasoning. "Around his early twenties, I believe, sir."

Early twenties… So it wasn't who China suspected. Maybe it was all some elaborate rouse. Although, something like this was going far for a prank. So did the ship have a new captain? Or was this not the Union Jack he was akin to? "What did the ship look like, aru?"

"Well, it looked… like it does in all the old pictures of it, although it seemed cleaner and less rustic."

"So you think it was the same ship?" China had to be sure.

The informant nodded. "The odds of it are high."

"So I see…"

~0~0~0~

Much to Canada's calm annoyance, France was only a captain, and couldn't just go on a search mission whenever he wanted. Canada wasn't technically a part of the navy, aside from doing work on his brother's ship. He'd have to wait for Lithuania, and for some order to be given.

Easier said than done.

~0~0~0~

America, being America, wasn't done pestering England with questions, much to the pirate captain's annoyance. The latter began to wonder what sound the admiral's head would make if he popped it. It was probably full of air anyway.

"And why do you expect me not to try and escape?"

England should've told Belgium not to remove the restraints. The navy was lucky he had self-control. "The answer to that question is simple, really." The pirate smirked. "The island is small and secluded, not on any map and in the middle of nowhere. If you did try it, you'd get to meet Prussia's sword, and you've fought him already. I recall you losing miserably. Switzerland is pretty trigger-happy himself, and might use you as moving target practice." The menacing grin grew. "Hell, you know what? Try and escape. It would amuse me greatly."

Well, that's cruel. And sadistic. Not that America expected any less.

~0~0~0~

"So I see… Well then, I guess we'll just have to obtain some sort of substantial information about this Union Jack and its whereabouts. I assume it must have stopped somewhere to make repairs, aru."

"Then we'll be holding a rescue?" The thought of saving his admiral brightened Lithuania's mood considerably.

China nodded. "Yes, aru. But before that, could you please inform Admiral Germany of the current situation, and tell him that I require his skills and services for this mission?"

"Right away, sir."


	5. Rescue Mission

They were there! They had finally arrived!

America had decided that in his predicament, it would be best to just go along with whatever. Knowing the fleet admiral and his effectiveness at gathering intelligence, they would find him in no time. Or America could just steal one of the ships. And then probably get himself killed in the process. Stupid pirates. So unheroic.

Upon arrival they had been greeted rather unceremoniously by who America assumed was Switzerland. Beside him had stood Liechtenstein, and behind two other men that England had called the Baltics. Whatever that meant. America had also met the rest of England's crew: Netherlands, Belgium's brother; and Sealand, young, and apparently just a deckhand.

Now America was walking behind England though the forest on the island, watching as the building they were headed to grew closer. Thinking of the ship reminded him of something. He poked England in the shoulder, earning a glare. "You know, my brother's good with working on ships and such, so if you really need repairs…"

The pirate captain rolled his eyes, not breaking stride in the least. The two had left all the others to explain what happened and catch up, but England refused to say a word as they walked. _Wow, I must have really gotten to him this morning._ As it were, America could hardly stand the silence. "You never answered my question before, he said casually, hoping to strike up some kind of conversation.

"So?" was the only response he received.

"So, how long have you been captain?" The admiral smirked wickedly, although England couldn't see. "Or is that a touchy subject for you? I guess I could always ask someone else…"

America had only meant it as a joke, so of course he didn't expect England to grab him by the collar and slam him (rather violently) into the nearest tree, pressing a dagger to his throat. Green eyes burned into blue, and the pirate looked ready to act on his death threat from earlier.

The hero flinched, actually finding himself to be – just a bit – scared, not that he'd ever admit it. "D-dude, calm down!"

"I am not your 'dude'," England growled, tightening his grip, "nor do you have the bloody right to tell me to 'calm down.'" He didn't raise his voice, but it still sounded more menacing than it would have if he had.

"Sorry." America didn't even dare to breathe. "I was just kidding. Honest. But why…" he trailed off when England released him. Forget it. I don't want to ask.

The captain gestured back the way they came. Not as aggressive, but certainly still hostile. "Go help the others." He turned away, stalking off towards the building.

Finally letting out his breath, America did as England said.

~0~0~0~

"Yes, I'm glad you could make it." To say the least, Lithuania wasn't exactly excited for the rest of the day. Being the worry wart he was, he was sure that something bad was going to happen – or already happened.

Germany nodded. "_Ja, guten tag._ So, what is this meeting about?"

Considering he had been away from the base when news of America's kidnapping had been spreading like the plague, it wasn't a surprise that Germany didn't know yet. Quickly, Lithuania filled him in, regretting every word of what he had to report.

~0~0~0~

Spain had gone to look for England when a rather dazed-looking admiral returned to the beach. It didn't take long to find him setting up rooms. Easily, Spain could tell that the other captain was agitated, having spent so much time around him. "England?"

The young pirate flinched before going back to work without turning to acknowledge his elder.

Sighing, Spain went over and stood next to him. _"Que pasa?_ What's up? America was out of it too, when he came back to help."

England shook his head. "He is offensively stupid. He just… I don't know. I yelled at him. That's it."

"You don't know? Is your memory okay?"

"My memory is fine!" England snapped.

"You wanted to ask him something, _si_?" The mood dropped to a serious note. "That's why he's here, right?"

"Yes."

"Is it about…?"

"Yes."

~0~0~0~

"Hey, hero!" Belgium jogged up to America. "Why are you here? I thought England wanted you to help him with something."

He shrugged. "Who knows? He just told me to come with him."

That said. Belgium still found it odd that he looked so put out. "So what happened?" she asked. "He yell at you or something?"

"Yeah," America admitted sheepishly. "I guess I said something I shouldn't have. It's no big deal, though. I just don't get why he bothered to say something now when I asked him the same thing this morning."

"Oh, okay. Well then, while you're here, you might as well work. Don't think you're getting off that easy."

~0~0~0~

"I see, so that's what happened."

"Yes." Lithuania nodded.

Germany took another moment to process the information. It seemed a bit strange, but he guessed it wasn't unheard of. "So then, the mission at hand is to gather information and launch a rescue mission, _ja_?" That seemed like the best plan of action, and the sooner the better.

"Yes."

~0~0~0~

"Helping the others" meant "unloading the ship to prepare for repairs", as America soon learned. Although, "helping" didn't stop him from snooping a bit (quite a bit) to see if he could find anything illegal, and he was disappointed when he came up short.

When they finished, everyone was just lazing around – Prussia laying around drinking beer, Belgium talking to Liechtenstein, Switzerland seeming to supervise (with a completely neutral expression), the Baltics (Estonia and Latvia, as America learned) looking over what he assumed to be repair plans, and everyone else… well, sleeping, pretty much.

That is, until England and Spain arrived back to the beach, which of course managed to gather attention. The former stopped at the tree line, purposefully meeting America's gaze, while Spain went to talk with the Baltics, before England turned back and disappeared again into the forest. The admiral took that as his signal to follow.

It took him a minute to catch up, and when he did, England didn't say anything. This time, America didn't try to provoke him. So they walked in silence to the building until the pirate lead him to a room and gestured for him to sit down. "What is it?" America asked warily as he took a seat on the bed.

England leaned back against the dresser and studied him quietly before answering. "I want to ask you something."

"Okay, the–"

"I wanted to ask you before," the captain cut him off, "but that didn't seem to work out."

Then would he just ask the damn question? Geez. "Well, what is it?"

There was a minute of dead silence before England asked, "What do you know about a ship called the Union Jack?"


	6. Wordplay

"The Union Jack?" America blinked, thinking hard. "Well… I can't say I've ever heard of it."

England let out an impatient breath, and had to bite his lip to keep himself from yelling,_ 'How could you not have bloody heard or it? You were just on it!'_ along with a few other choice words. Instead he just frowned. "Think carefully; are you sure?"

"I'm sure…" America said slowly. "…Why?"

They lapsed into silence, England thinking and America waiting for an answer. "Look," the pirate finally said. "I'll make a deal with you."

"I don't make deals with pirates."

England went on as if the admiral hadn't spoken. "Once the ship is fixed, I'll let you go. Provided you get something for me."

America looked him over suspiciously. "Provided I get _what_ for you?"

"Information." A pause. "On the Union Jack." Another, longer pause. "Anything you can get will do."

"What do you plan to do with this information?" America asked. It was a tempting offer, and seemed innocent enough, but the answer to his question would determine whether or not he accepted.

"Nothing unheroic." England rolled his eyes. "There are just… some things I need to know."

America almost asked what things he was talking about, but decided it wasn't his business. At the moment, at least. He could always find out later. "Nothing bad?" he checked. England shook his head, and America stood up and stretched his arms out above his head. "Well then, when are these repairs going to be done?"

~0~0~0~

It didn't take long for Germany to round up Japan and Italy and inform them of their mission. Japan, being Japan, took the task very seriously. Italy, being Italy, wanted to know if they could get pasta. Lithuania was also to help them. Together, they had just set off on the_ Versand _(Germany's ship) to a small town that would be around two days sailing away, since it was the closest land to where the run-in with the pirates had been.

The Union Jack… Lithuania had filled Germany in with everything he knew about the ship, and every detail of the encounter, and something about it didn't sit right with the admiral. It wasn't just how the ship had supposedly been wiped out, but how Lithuania had described the captain. Italy had done a drawing based on the description, which the informant had approved as accurate, but he seemed…

Germany couldn't think of a word.

~0~0~0~

To be completely honest, England had expected a "Sorry, I don't help fix pirate ships." Certainly not a simple "Sure, why not?" It was a pleasant surprise, and he was grateful for it since the repairs would be done quicker with the admiral's help.

England also knew that America wanted to leave as well. That was another thing that the captain was grateful for. America obviously didn't think highly of the situation, so it would make sense for him to want to get out of it. That, and earlier he had muttered something about _pirates being unheroic_ or whatever. Tsh, tosser. The sooner they parted ways the better.

Then better (hopefully) and he would be out of England's hair forever.

"Hey, England!"

Oh, and speak of the… "America," England greeted curtly.

America stopped next to him. "Hey, so I was wondering if there was any food or anything. I'm starving!" When England simply stared up at him, the admiral started to look uncharacteristically concerned. "What's up?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking."

"Oh, that's a relief!" America breathed. "I was starting to thing you were mad at me or something! Anyway, food."

England sighed. "The sun will be going down before too long, so I suppose it would be a good time to start on dinner. I'll ask Liechtenstein if she can prepare something."

~0~0~0~

"I-I'm worried about how America is doing."

Lithuania fidgeted beside Germany. He wanted to be completely honest with the admiral, since the latter was the one that was leading the current mission. So they had to trust each other, right?

"_Ja,_ me too. However, we must carry on with our mission and not allow these concerns to cloud our thoughts," Germany said with finality. Lithuania gave a half-hearted smile; he didn't know much about the blond, having just met him, aside from the fact that he took his job very seriously.

There were a few seconds of silence where the only sounds that reached them were that of the ocean, until it was broken by Italy behind them. _"Ve_, don't worry!" he called excitedly. "I'm sure he's fine~!"

Japan approached at a slower pace. "Yes, I am sure there is nothing to worry about. It is Admiral America that we are talking about."

Their reassurances managed to take the edge off of Lithuania's worry, and he smiled – a genuine, hopeful smile. "Yes, you're probably right."

Although, no matter how right they were, something still felt wrong.

~0~0~0~

"Wow, this food is really great!"

"Do you want to know what would make it better?"

"Hm?"

"If you would shut up and chew with your mouth closed."

Prussia howled with laughter at watching his captain and the admiral bicker. "You know, England," he choked out, "if you want to punish him for bad manners, you could always make him eat your cooking."

England shot a glare at Prussia. "Be quiet."

Most of the others were watching with varying degrees of interest; while a few (Switzerland and Romano) were doing their best to ignore them completely.

The first mate smirked. "Make me."

Spain and America joined in on cracking up. The blond, who had been taking a bite of his food, spat up a bit, and England, who had the misfortune of sitting across from him, crinkled his nose in disgust. That only seemed to make it funnier, as the three (and a few others) only laughed harder.

When England began to go into detail of how he would make Prussia shut up, the situation suddenly reminded America of dinners he's shared with his own family. Especially on holidays. He wasn't the only troublemaker in his family, and things had a tendency to get out of hand. Word of what happened had to have reached their navy base already, and there was no doubt that Canada was worried out of his mind. More than anything, America just wanted to get back and assure everyone that he was okay. It was unheroic to make people worry.

Perhaps England knew that, and that was why he had offered the deal. It made sense, since they would both get what they wanted. Or maybe America was over thinking it. Regardless, a promise was a promise.

Everyone began to calm down, and the rest of the meal was eaten in silence. Apart from Prussia's snickering.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This _would_ have been longer, had it not been for part of it getting deleted and me having to rewrite it as best I could. So, it ended up somewhat shorter. [/itwillbemadeupfor.] Also, I want to thank all the reviewer people. You guys make my day. And are awesome. Almost as awesome as Prussia. Almost, but not quite. And does anyone else want to know how England was going to make Prussia shut up? The world may never know.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. If I did, then the apocalypse might come true. Just sayin'.**


	7. Island Destination

Two days could be rough on a man, as America soon found out. Two days of working on the ship, which was almost completely fixed, and that meant that they would probably be able to leave in around a day or two. Two days of England bossing him around (the prick). Two days of arguing, in general. Two days of worrying about how his brother was doing. Two days of just…

"Food's ready."

America jumped, startled out of his thoughts. He looked up at England, who was staring down at him blankly. The admiral was taking a break, just sitting on the beach and watching the waves. Oh, he couldn't wait to be back on the sea…

"That is, unless you're not hungry?" England continued.

"No way! Don't eat without me!" America cried, springing to his feet before grinning at the prospect of food. England had figured out pretty quickly that America had a bottomless pit of a stomach, and always chided him for bad manners whenever they ate. Not that it made a difference.

Another thing that America had learned it was that Liechtenstein made some of the best food he's ever had. He made sure to tell her this on a daily basis and whenever he did, she blushed and thanked him.

England snorted. "Well then, quit standing around and come on, then."

"Uh, hey, England," America mumbled. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

The admiral rolled his eyes. _"Anyway_, I wanted to ask if the others… uh, know about the, um, deal we made. Do they?"

"No." England shook his head. "Only Spain. Now, do you want food or don't you?"

Back on the topic of eating, America brightened up considerably. "Yes! Of course I want food."

~0~0~0~

Two days. Two troublesome days.

Or, well, not too terribly troublesome, but worrisome nonetheless. And worrying was certainly something Lithuania was a master at. And he had two perfectly good days to do it.

He was walking with Germany around the small port town, having split up with Japan and Italy to try and gather information. As subtle as they could, they saw if anyone knew anything about the whereabouts of a certain ship they were looking for. The fact that they were navy didn't help, though; most of the people here had obviously never met an officer before, and weren't sure how to address or talk to them, so they just nervously ended up babbling about how they didn't know ("Sorry").

They didn't have much luck going for them at the moment, until Italy ran up, followed by Japan and another middle-aged man that Lithuania didn't recognize. "Germany! Germany!" Italy chanted. "Look, look! I found someone who can help us!"

Germany turned to look at the cheerful brunette. "Wonderful, who is it?"

The man stopped in front of him. "Nice to meet ya. I'm just a common merchant, but I do believe I can be of a bit'a help to ya. I've seen the ship the lad was tellin' me about just a few days ago."

"Really?" Lithuania asked eagerly. This was great! "Where was it headed?"

"If you gotta map I can show ya," the merchant said.

Lithuania pulled out the map he always carried around on outings like this; it came in handy, especially now. "Here, we're here now." He pointed. "Do you remember where this ship was headed?"

The man scoffed. "Course I remember. Do I seem old to you?" He looked the map over carefully before gesturing to a small island in the middle of the sea. "It was headed 'n that direction, so this island 'ere is your best shot, if you're looking for it on land. Ya said it would probably 'ave had to stop somewhere?" he queried, directing the question to Japan.

"_Hai."_

Germany took the map and observed the small island. It didn't seem to have a name, and was very secluded. So… yes, this very well could be where those pirates have gone. It made perfect sense. Now, it was just a matter of getting there. The admiral figured that it would take around a day or a day and a half, based on the distance. Very good. He looked back up at the merchant. "Thank you for assisting us. Your help is highly appreciated."

"Just bein' of use." The merchant shrugged. "Don't worry none. Just do what you gotta do."

They waved their goodbyes and went their separate ways. "This is good," Germany addressed the rest of them. "We should leave as soon as possible."

"Ah, but Germany!" Italy whined. "Can't we rest and eat first?"

The admiral opened his mouth to keep strict to his point, but Japan beat him to it. "I agree with mister Italy. It would be better to get a fool night's rest before we take action, in case it comes to a fight."

Lithuania nodded. "Yes, that way, if we find them and it comes to a fight, we'll be prepared."

Germany nodded reluctantly, seeing their points. "Yes, very well."

~0~0~0~

The sun was low in the sky when Prussia loudly suggested that they have a bonfire. Nearly everyone had agreed, and set out to gather firewood. America was on his third run when England startled him for the second time that day.

"America."

He managed not to jump this time, and stared up at the captain in annoyance. "Why do you insist on sneaking up on me?"

England snorted. "I hardly snuck up on you."

"Well," America rose to his feet, huffing, "what do you want?"

"You remember your end of the deal, don't you?"

"You think I have memory problems?"

Green eyes narrowed. "I am simply making sure. So then, you realize that we need to make plans to meet up again?"

America nodded, grinning brightly. "Yeah, I realize. There's a pub in the town closest to the navy base that we could meet at. It would be convenient for me."

"And what would be the name of this pub?" England asked, raising an eyebrow.

"_Lokal."_

The pirate nodded thoughtfully. "Okay." There was a long pause. "One week from now. That should be a sufficient amount of time."

"A week? Mm, okay. Sounds good. But what happens afterwards?"

England blinked. "What do you mean?"

America rolled his eyes. "You know. After this meeting, is that it and we never see each other again?"

There was a moment of silence before England gave a thin smile. "I suppose so."

For whatever reason, America felt a tinge of disappointment. "That's a shame." He arched his back in a stretch. "I think… that if things were different, then we could be really good friends."

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Even if you are bossy and made me do all of your work for you."

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, I get that you said I was helping, but I was really taking your place in doing what needed to be done."

"That's not-"

"Yes, yes, it is. It is true and you know it."

England looked away from him. "Well, it's not like you had anything better to do."

America laughed. "Yeah, that's kind of your fault too."

"Shut up."

"Make me." The admiral stuck his tongue out.

"I will–"

"Hey, England!" Spain called, cutting him off. "Are you guys coming? The sun's going down and we want to start the bonfire soon."

England huffed. "Yes, quite. We," he shout a dark glare at America, "were just on our way."

America wanted to say that no, they weren't, simply to contradict England. Messing with the pirate was highly entertaining, he found, so long as he wasn't about to slit America's throat. Instead, though, he held his tongue. "Yeah." He picked up the wood he'd been gathering and walked over to Spain, pumping a fist in the air as best he could. It had been way too long since he'd done something like this. "Let's go!"

Spain chuckled at his enthusiasm. _"Si_, let's."

They started out towards the beach, grudgingly followed by England. In a few minutes, they reached their destination to see that Prussia was already starting on the fire.

"Careful!" England shouted at him when the fire flared up heavily, almost scorching the albino.

Prussia looked over and grinned lazily. "Don't worry about the awesome me! I got this."

England shook his head. "That's _what_ I'm worried about," he muttered, just loud enough for America and Spain to hear, who looked at each other and laughed.

Most of the others were either bringing back firewood, food, or sitting around watching Prussia mess with the fire until he got it to a reasonable size. Logs had been dragged and placed in a circle, and in to time at all, everything was set up for the bonfire. America couldn't help but feel excitement well up inside him. He dragged England behind him as he went to drop his wood on the pile before taking a seat. Spain sat on the other side of the younger captain, Prussia on the log next to them, and everyone else filled in the spaces.

Once everyone was settled and the food was distributed, Prussia looked at America. "Hey, do you want to hear a story?"

America swallowed. "Uh, it's not a ghost story, is it?"

The albino smirked. "Better."

"O-okay."

"Well, this story takes place a little over a year ago, on my awesome-but-not-nearly-as-awesome-as-me captain's twenty-first birthday…" Prussia launched into this great, long story about how, on that day, he dragged England out to a bar. Apparently, England acted nothing like England when he was drunk, to say the least. Which, of course, sounded like it would be hilarious. America couldn't stop laughing, while England was glaring at Prussia with murder in his eyes. "And that's what happens when England drinks," he concluded.

America calmed down just enough to turn to England and choke out, "Dude, remind me get you drunk sometime."

Funny, then, that they were meeting again at a pub.

The rest of the night went basically the same way; eating, telling stories (thankfully no ghost stories; America despised them), laughing, joking. America decided that, all in all, it had been a good day.

* * *

><p>AN: Yup. It's beautiful. Enjoy~


	8. Heroes Don't Need Suspense

**Disclaimer: Everything was made in Prussia. Even the stuff that says made in Japan was made in Prussia. And Prussia originated in Korea.**

* * *

><p>It was noon. Having been sailing since the crack of dawn, Lithuania was tired and apprehensive. They had seen nothing but open sea, no sign of life anywhere. It was nerve wracking. America was out there somewhere, though. After all, he couldn't just die, could he? The brave, heroic, headstrong admiral? Lithuania just hoped that they found him soon. But if it came to another fight…<p>

There. It was barely there, barely in sight, but Lithuania instinctively knew what it was – a ship. A pirate ship, to be more exact.

It was precisely the ship they'd been looking for.

~0~0~0~

America bolted straight up in bed.

He had received a rude awakening, and glared up at England, who was holding a mug in his hand that previously contained ice water. That is, before it had been dumped on America's head. "What was that for?" the admiral demanded.

England shrugged. "I've been trying to wake you up for the past half hour. If anything, you are lucky it was cold water on your head; it could have been boiling water somewhere else."

America opened his mouth to protest, but found that he couldn't argue with that logic. "Are we leaving or something?" he asked instead.

"That was the plan," England said dryly. "Unless you have something better?"

"Eating?" America suggested. He had a habit of waking up starving.

"Yes, well, you would have gotten food if you'd waken up the first time. Any complaints?"

"Jerk."

England smirked. "I try."

America huffed. "I can tell."

"Good."

"Good."

Silence.

"Can't I get something to eat?"

"No."

"Later?"

"Perhaps."

"Jerk."

"Are we going to leave or are we just going to sit here all day arguing?"

"Well, I'd be more inclined to get up if you weren't such a prick."

"Hm."

The door slammed open, and Prussia walked in haughtily. "Are you guys coming or what? I am too awesome to be kept waiting!"

"I know," America agreed. "Making people wait is so unawesome."

England snorted, shaking his head. "I'm sure."

"It is!" Prussia insisted.

~0~0~0~

Spain had already left, saying his goodbye's right before England went to wake America. England had told Spain about his deal with the admiral, and the elder captain couldn't say that he was all that surprised. After all, England had been wanting to get that information for years; Spain knew how important it was to him. Even if it meant befriending a navy officer, when the navy was the thing he hated more than anything.

~0~0~0~

America was pretty mad. They'd been sailing for half the day already and all that England had given him was a piece of toast. A single piece! And it was noon already, so they could at least eat lunch. He had complained to England, but the pirate had threatened to gag him and tie him to the mast.

He was pretty mad. That is, until he heard Prussia's yell of, "Navy ship ho!" Then excitement quickly replaced his anger.

Everyone – aside from America, the captain, and the first mate – stood by below deck, waiting. America had learned in his days of snooping and exploring that there were some places down there that you could hear what was going on above deck from. It was pretty cool, actually. "Awesome," was the word Prussia had used when America asked him about it.

The navy ship was close enough now that America could _just_ make out his own first mate. He waved excitedly. "Lithuania!"

"Don't," England ordered, shooting him a glare.

America rolled his eyes. "Aye aye, Captain."

The two enemy ships grew closer to each other, both with a purpose. One with the objective of recue, and the other with… Come to think of it, that was a good question. What _was_ England trying to accomplish? It was a question that baffled America.

Time dragged on for what felt like an eternity to America, who… No. No, no. America couldn't stand the building up, and would have none of that. Seriously. He just found it so _boring_, and didn't get why they couldn't just cut to the chase. Heroes don't need suspense, he decided.

It was still a few minutes before the ships met, slowing down to stop. Four men stood on the deck of the admiral ship, three on the pirate. America wondered briefly if England would castrate him if he were to just run over and jump onto the other ship to tackle Lithuania in a bear hug, questioning him about how everyone was. Probably. In any case, he decided against it. Best to save it for later, after all the serious stuff that he didn't like.

"May I help you, sir?" England called over to the navy admiral. America didn't recognize him, but he looked pretty strict.

Whoever this admiral was, though, he obviously didn't appreciate the pirate's attitude. Not that America did, but he just got used to it. "I believe you can, actually," the older admiral responded, glancing briefly at America. "I'm looking for someone, and was wondering if you had seen him?"

England took a second to think about it. "I may have. Who is this man you are looking for?"

"I do believe that you know who."

"You do? Well then, why don't you come right aboard and we can chat, mm?" England invited, and America thought that maybe – just maybe –the pirate was trying to mess with the admiral. And here he thought stuck-up old England didn't have a sense of humor. "It is quite tedious to have to shout across to each other, wouldn't you agree?"

The admiral nodded. "Yes, it is rather bothersome. However, I think I'd rather you come over here. Your crew as well."

England smiled. "Ah, we could have an outgoing, and get to know each other and everything! It would be quite fun, if I do say so myself. Everyone here can come. What do you say?"

"Will there be pasta?" a brunette at the admiral's side asked.

Another, mature-looking black haired man looked at him. "Mister Italy, I believe he was kidding."

Italy deflated. "Oh… so there won't be any pasta?"

"You can have pasta later," the admiral snapped. "Right now, this is serious."

"No," England cut in. "I was thinking we could have pasta now. _Someone_ is a bit hungry, and we _were_ just about to take a lunch break before you came along. Not that the disturbance wasn't a _pleasant_ surprise…"

Finally, America lost it. "Shut up! I don't mean to be rude, guys, but please! Honestly. Lithuania, bro, I missed you like mad and I'm totally glad you're okay. Admiral dude, I will come with you in just a second. England, I don't care what you say, and it pains me to say this, but I must leave you. I'm sorry it didn't work out, but we need to move on. Goodbye."

And that was exactly how it all went down.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I don't even know what I should say to this. It was supposed to be serious, but that... kind of... didn't really work...  
>Anywhoo, I am going to start updating on a weekly basis. Any particular day that I should update on?<strong>


	9. Return

**If no one cares, I'm just going to update on Fridays. Hurray, Return Arc~. Yes, I'm such a nerd that I divided my story up into Arcs. The last arc was the Rescue America Arc. I'm cool. Not really. Enjoy anyway. [That awkward moment when the number of reviews for your story is the same as the number of emails in your spam folder.]**

**0z: Yes. The end of the chapter was supposed to sound like America was breaking up with Iggy. The chapter was originally going to be much different than what it turned out to be, but I'm glad I wrote it that way. You're welcome.**

**The Obsessionist: /noideawhereitsgoinghm? Suspense acheived...? I'm glad you like the story, though. :D**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia totally belongs to Himaruya. Like seriously to the max.**

**[The underlining makes it fancy.]**

* * *

><p>Three days.<p>

That was how long it took them to reach the navy base. Three days, America had been counting in his head. Four to go. The countdown had begun. Which meant that he had three days to sneak into the information room and get what he needed before his meeting with England. The entire thought made America both excited and nervous.

As soon as they got back, America found his brother and tackled him – literally. "Canada!"

"America," Canada wheezed, struggling under his brother's grip, "I love you, but get off me, please."

America complied somewhat reluctantly. "Aw, I love you too, bro. I just missed you and all that. It's been over a week. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay."

Canada looked at him for a second before hugging him fiercely. "You reckless little… Of course you would be the one to get kidnapped by pirates and worry me sick! The least you could do is take it seriously. Honestly, America. I thought you died!"

"Well," America choked out. "I'm obviously not dead, but I will be if you keep giving me your death hugs. I can't really breathe."

Hastily, Canada loosened his hold. "Sorry."

"Besides, I couldn't just let some pirates kill me. What kind of hero would I be then?"

The younger brother sighed. "Good point."

"Yeah, I tend to make those."

"Oh, shut up."

America stuck out his tongue. "Make me."

"It's amazing that the whole pirate thing didn't seem to have any effect on your huge ego. There's no dent or anything. Astounding, eh?"

"Come on. I'm just that awesome, and you know it."

"You think it."

"Because it's true!"

"Yeah, sure, whatever you say."

"Don't be jealous, now. It's hard to be as awesome and amazing and heroic as I am. But it's all in a day's work for me."

"Everyone's jealous," Canada muttered sarcastically.

~0~0~0~

The argument went on like that for around twenty three minutes before the fleet admiral, China, finally called for America to come to his office. Official reports and whatnot, probably.

"Good evening, aru," China greeted him.

America nodded politely. "And you, boss."

"How are you?"

"Good." America shrugged. "Tired. Good."

China nodded curtly. "That's good, then. You're not hurt or anything at all?"

The admiral laughed. "No, I'm fine. They didn't torture me or anything."

"I think… that you should take a break. You've been through a lot in the past week, aru, at least. It's a lot of stress, and a few days of rest will help with that. A few days away from the navy base will be good for you, especially now, aru. You've been under a lot of pressure for a long time, trying to live up to everyone's expectations and your own. It would be okay to stop for a while. No one would blame you for wanting some peace."

Peace sounded nice, but a few days away from the base? No way; these people were practically his family, and the best place for America to be was with them. That, and his deal with England. He couldn't help thinking that he was doing something wrong, though. America decided to shrug it off. "Nah, I'm fine, boss. Nothing too traumatic happened and I feel fine. Actually, I feel _great."_

"Okay," China sighed, "I can't make you stay away from the base, but I will withhold missions from you until_ I _think you're fine to go on them, aru. That's an order, got it?"

America saluted him. "Yes, boss."

"You are dismissed."

America got up and left after giving China one last wave. He walked to what was basically their hang out room to find France, Canada, and Lithuania. France strode over to him, having been the only one of the three who hasn't welcomed him back.

"You know," France traced a circle over America's chest, "just because you were kidnapped by filthy pirates and all, that doesn't mean I'll start asking for… you know."

America slapped his hand away and snorted_. "You know_ I've never let you do that stuff." _And they weren't filthy pirates,_ he added to himself.

Canada laughed nervously and looked at Lithuania. "I don't think anything is going to change around here."

"Thankfully." Lithuania smiled.

If only they knew how wrong that statement was.

* * *

><p><strong>I will hug anyone who gets the YCTTSFM reference. You know who you are.<strong>

**Fun Fact: Reviewing will make you 20% cooler.**


	10. Nerves

**A/N: I honestly thought that this chapter was shorter. Huh. Oh well. It's still short. [683 words long.]**  
><strong>So, in the past week, this story has basically been turned into a trilogy. Yeah. I have way too much time on my hands to think, although that may be because I just love this story so much that I think out the plot whilst trying to concentrate on other things. Multitasking. Wonderful skill to have. Ahh.<strong>

**Luigi: Thank you, I'm glad you like the story~!**

* * *

><p>Nervous. America was nervous. It had been two days since he got back to the base, and he'd been stalling. Unfortunately, though, he couldn't stall any longer; he had to sneak into the information room. Tonight. So that tomorrow he could go meet England.<p>

One day. It was one day exactly until his meeting. America wondered why he had agreed to it in the first place. He could always just skip it, although he didn't want to think of what the consequences would be if he did. Besides, it would be unheroic to break his promise. And America was very heroic, self-proclaimed or otherwise. But heroic nonetheless.

And the most heroic thing he could do now was to hold up his end of the deal – even if it meant stealing information. Which… also wasn't heroic. America sighed. There was no way around it; one way or another, he would have to do something unheroic. Fine then. He would keep his promise. He wanted to see England again anyway. America wanted to find out a few things. And that left him in his current situation of sneaking into the information room without getting caught.

Honestly, he had expected the door to be locked, not to open so easily when he simply turned the knob. It was fine with him, though. Now he wouldn't actually have to break in. now all he had to do was find the file and get the whole thing over and done with. He crossed the room to the U shelf and began looking. _Union Jack, Union Jack, where is the Union Jack?_

_Ah, here's the Union Jack._ He grabbed the folder off of the shelf and ran his fingers over it before slipping it into the bag he'd brought. Now he could just be on his way…

Except for when the door clicked open.

~0~0~0~

"Why are we stopping?" Prussia demanded.

England sighed. "Because we are, Prussia. Why do you insist on questioning me? It is highly unnecessary."

"It's very necessary!" Prussia snorted. "Especially when you're not telling someone as awesome as me! It isn't fair. I'm your first mate, I should know!"

"Prussia," England repeated. "The reason why we are stopping is not important. You questioning me about it is tedious and annoying. Look, I'll be gone for a few hours, and while I'm not here, you're in charge. Okay?"

Prussia frowned. "Where are you going?"

"I just told you that it isn't important. But if it turns out to be, I need you to follow these instructions exactly…"

~0~0~0~

"Hello?"

America tensed. No way, there was no way someone could have followed him. He had made sure to be extra sneaky and spy-like. Or maybe it was a ghost. "H-hello?" he called shakily. Not a ghost, not a ghost, please don't be a ghost!

"America? Is that you?"

The admiral sighed, glad that he hadn't turned the light on and instead used a small pocket flashlight. It would be harder to explain if it seemed like he came in here on purpose. "Lithuania?"

"Yeah?"

America ran over to him and hugged him. "Dude, I'm so glad you're not a ghost or something! I didn't hear you walk up and I thought, 'Hey, maybe it's a ghost!'"

Lithuania shifted. "Uh, that's great but what are you doing in here?"

"I must be more out of it than I think." America laughed nervously. "I came in here thinking it was the bathroom!"

"You need to get some rest, America. I'm worried about you. Everyone is worried about you. You really should take a few days off, away from the base. It would be good for you and your mental state."

His mental state? The admiral shook his head and released Lithuania. "Nah, I'm just tired. I'll be fine, Lithuania, so don't worry. You don't have to worry about me."

Lithuania sighed. "America, I always have to worry about you."

"Well, I should get to bed. Night, Liet."

America took off back to his own room, leaving Lithuania to stand there in his wake thinking about the words, _"I'll be fine."_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: If you are so inclined, take a gander at this here story that I might write:**

_"Do you understand that if you fail in this mission, it could – no, it will – result in a catastrophe?"_

_Arthur Kirkland nodded. He knew that very well, in fact. After all, with who they were dealing with, one mistake could have very grave consequences._

_His boss hummed for a second. "Although I suppose that I shouldn't be concerned about you failing a mission, should I? That is why this particular one was assigned to you." There was a moment of silence. "Alfred F. Jones. He is an American spy, young and spoken very highly of, especially for a fairly new agent. In the Surface, he is the manager of a repair company." He slid a file across the table._

_Arthur opened the cover and was met with a picture of a young man with wheat blond hair, glasses, and bright blue eyes, smiling brightly. He flipped through a few of the other pages while his boss continued._

_"Your job is to befriend him and gain his trust. Then, you can move on the next part of your mission. You know the stakes. Best of luck to you."_

_He got up and exited the small room, leaving Arthur to contemplate how to move forward from there._

**Yes? No? Maybe?** **What do you guys think? Until next time, mine lovelies~**

**[Mr. Frodo!**

**...Sam.]**


	11. Meeting

**A/N: This chapter :3**

**Early update, because I'm in a good mood [or at least want to be] and so why not? I just love you all too much. Which isn't possible, just so you know. I love all you people more than... uh... something. Something that is awesome.**

**I have so much fun thinking up England's threats. Seriously, you have no idea. Honest.  
>Also, a few of you [not naming names] have been rooting for USUK. It will happen eventually. Sometime. Not now, though.<strong>

**Just for reference, England's coat is red. **

* * *

><p>America peeked into the pub and almost immediately saw England sitting at the back. To his surprise, the pirate looked extremely anxious. He would look up and around the room before impatiently looking down at a gold pocket watch in his hand. Finally, taking a deep breath, America walked in and over to England.<p>

"You're late."

The admiral laughed, dropping his bag to the floor and taking a seat. He watched England, who had stopped fidgeting, for a second before leaning conspicuously over the table. "You've been waiting?"

England rolled his eyes, but otherwise played along. "A bloody long time," he said smoothly, although America noted that the 'bloody' was unnecessary. "And I do believe we should get down to business."

This not drawing attention thing was so entertaining. America was dressed in civilian clothes (fancy, heroic civilian clothes), while England was dressed as he normally was, minus the hat, and his coat was slung over the chair beside him.

They got up, both grabbing their stuff before America followed England into a back room. The second the door was shut, the pirate turned to America. "You know, if you don't have it, I'll have to force feed you your small intestine," England informed his sweetly. "You realize that, yes?"

America laughed, opening his bag. "Well, that's hard to argue with. But yeah, I have it." He took out the file and handed it to England.

He grabbed it from his hands and sat down, busying himself in the pages. Quite a bit eagerly, but that was something that America had expected. "Reading about the history of your pretty little ship?" America asked casually.

England looked up at him with a slight glare in his eyes. "You read through it, didn't you?" There was the kind of threatening note to his voice that America couldn't tell whether it came from anger or surprise.

"I may have skimmed." America shrugged. "But I did come across some interesting things in there."

"Oh? And what would these interesting things be?" England pushed the papers towards the admiral as America took a seat across from him.

The admiral flipped to the last page. "Well, for one thing, it's supposed to be a dead ship, although I have reason to believe otherwise. Good reason, too."

"Yes, I kind of figured," England said dryly, taking the paper and reading it over. "What happened? It doesn't say."

Hold on, England was the captain of the ship, so shouldn't he know that already? This whole situation gave America a headache. "I don't know. What did happen?"

There was a moment of silence and America (not surprisingly) was the one to break it. "England, what happened?"

"Anything else? Relationships with the navy, for example?" England had ignored the question and returned his attention to the file. When he didn't receive a response, he gathered it up and stood. "Well then, I suppose this will–"

America grabbed his arm to prevent him from leaving. "England, what happened?" Silence. The admiral tightened his grip. "What happened?" he demanded.

England scowled and tried to free his arm. "Let go, you–"

"I will when you tell me what happened."

"I don't bloody remember, okay?" the pirate spat.

America abruptly dropped his arm. It definitely wasn't an answer he'd been expecting, and England just looked so… defensive now that he's said it. Surprise was one word to explain what America's reaction was. "You… don't?" In any case, it was an interesting piece of information. Come to think of it, it did explain a lot.

England snorted, a somewhat insulting gesture, and rubbed his arm. "What part of 'I don't remember' do you not understand?"

With that, America decided it was high time for a subject change. "So, uh, relationships with the navy." He was sure the he'd seen it somewhere. "I think it was… a bad relation?"

Relaxing, England handed him the file and sat back down. "Show me where you saw it."

Bossy. America complied anyway. Luckily it didn't take that long to find. "Here. See? They hated each other."

"So it would make sense that the navy would want the Union Jack gone?" England asked, careful to keep his tone neutral.

"Hm. I guess, yeah," America said, completely oblivious to what England had been implying.

"I see."

"Oh!" America perked up. "There's something else I want to ask you. A few things, actually."

"Yes, what is it?"

"Right, okay, first off, England is the name of the former captain, right? Before you? And how did you become captain?"

The pirate shrugged. "I don't know. Spain just started calling me England."

America realized that he was the only one standing and quickly took a seat. "Oh, yeah, Spain. How did you meet him, anyway?"

"He's the one that found me on the ship."

"Okay. Is it the same ship? Looks like it."

"Technically no. My ship was just made to look like the original. The flag is the same, but that's it."

That answered a few of America's questions. He grinned. "So it's like the Union Jack Two, huh? Uh, anyway, amnesia, huh? So what's your first memory, then?"

Something flickered in England's eyes that America couldn't read. He stood up once more with a few of the pages in his hand. "We should probably get going. We don't want anyone to wonder where we've been."

America wanted an answer to his last question (and a few before it), but he didn't want to stir up any more trouble than necessary. Besides, England had a good point.

"Right."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Make suggestions for the story. Pairings, scenes you'd like to see, anything really. It would be awesome.**

**[I will forever treasure all of them.]**


	12. Clueless

**A/N: Hurray, Tea Party Arc~! This is where you start hating me. Just sayin'. Can anyone guess the reason for the title of this arc?**

**0z: Yes. I will show you what I have of it on Sunday.**

* * *

><p><em>France sat by his window, admiring the beauty of the night sky. It was clear; there was not a cloud in the sky to cover the shine of the moon and the stars. Oh yes, it was a perfect night, with all the stars glittering despite the recent turns of events. Things would get better, France knew. Otherwise, how could he fully enjoy this gorgeous night?<em>

_That is, he thought he knew, at least until a lithe form on the ground caught his eye, moving across the courtyard and sticking to the shadows. Someone sneaking out? France decided to investigate. He quickly took the shortcut to where he knew this mystery person would end up, and was shocked to see who it was._

Well well well, what is our little_ Amerique_ doing out at this hour of the night?

~0~0~0~

America collapsed into his bed, exhausted. He had just returned what he had left of the file to the information room. It had been a long night and all he wanted to do know was sleep.

He easily fell into a deep slumber, with dreams coming to him restlessly. Dreams of fighting and confusion that quickly slipped away the second he almost wrapped his mind around them. He thought he saw England a few times, but he wasn't sure. One thing he knew he saw, though, was blood – a lot of it.

A wave of pain crashed over him, centering in his chest. America bolted upright and grabbed at his heart in an attempt to calm it down. What _was_ that?

Whatever it was, America didn't want to dwell on it. Pushing it to the back of his mind, he got up, got dressed, and made his way to the kitchen to get some food. The morning was going fairly well until he nearly choked on his food in shock when France whispered in his ear.

"_Bonjour, Amerique._ I have a question for you."

America, startled for the second time that day, turned and looked up from where he was sitting. "France, don't sneak up on me like that! What do you want?"

France leaned up against the table next to him, his expression wide-eyed and full of mock innocence. "Why, there is no need to sound so hostile. I merely wished to inquire about the reason you were out last night."

America frowned. "I wasn't out last night."

"Oh, but you were." France leaned down so that his mouth was to America's ear and lowered his voice. "It didn't have something to do with a certain pirate, did it?"

The admiral jumped and pulled away. "I-I have no idea wh-what you're talking about," he stuttered. _Does France know? Please tell me that France doesn't know!_

France clicked his tongue. "I think I have an idea, _mon ami._ And if my idea is wrong, I could always just go and ask him."

America's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by that, France?"

The captain sighed dramatically. "Well…"

"Spit it out!"

"You really care, don't you, _mon ami?"_

"Just tell me!"

"It is quite a shame that you don't think through your actions_, Amerique."_

"France, quit stalling and just tell me. What do you mean by 'you can just go and ask him'?"

France smirked. "You really are clueless."

"Tell me!" America shouted, highly annoyed at France's evasiveness. If he had something to say, then he should just say it. It was as simple as that. Why was France insisting on torturing him?

"The reason I could just go and ask him is that, because of you, your little pirate friend is in navy custody."

America froze. "…What?"

"I'm afraid you heard correct, _mon ami,"_ France chuckled.

"How is it my fault?" the admiral demanded. Great, now America would have to see him again. His dream came rushing back to him. No, that was just a dream. It didn't mean anything. But still, America hadn't expected to be followed, and he certainly didn't expect England to get caught. By the navy. Man, England was going to hate him. If he didn't already; there was a good chance that he did.

The grin never left France's face. "You, _Amerique,_ lead us right to him. I wouldn't be surprised if the boss gave you a medal for it."

A medal? No, America didn't deserve one. After all, he had practically sold out England, who, despite what America had said, he considered a friend. That was why the admiral had been looking forward to never seeing him again. But now all of that was ruined, all because France had to follow him. America was sure that it had been France. Who else would have followed him? It was the only logical explanation. America just felt so… conflicted.

"Don't look so down, _mon ami._ This is a good thing."

Oh, this was far from good. It was the exact opposite of good. America was not happy. Far from it. More than anything, he just wanted to wipe that smug-ass look off of France's face. The captain was lucky he had self-control, as much as he liked to joke that America didn't. Jerk. He also didn't want to get into any more trouble than he was probably already in. America doubted that the boss didn't already know the reason he had met up with England. Especially if the pirate thought that America had someone follow him on purpose, then he would definitely tell.

~0~0~0~

England refused to say anything, not even give his name. it was a skill that had been trained into him, no matter how much he wanted to yell and scream and try to escape. England refused to give them the satisfaction. He was sitting in a cell, staring up blankly at the fleet admiral, China. His hands were unbound; the second the door had been locked, he easily freed his wrists from the rope. China had looked on with some level of awe.

"I'm intrigued, aru," China told the pirate. "When faced with my men, you gave up without a struggle. Your hands are bound tightly, yet you get out of it like it's nothing. You are faced with the fleet admiral of the navy, the biggest enemy to pirates, yet you do not seem intimidated. Why is that, aru?"

The captain snorted. "Maybe you navy aren't as tough as you think you are."

China sighed. This was going to be a difficult one. He had already attempted an interrogation, but he'd been met with dead silence and lethal glares. That jab had been the first thing England had said, and China, being used to easy prisoners, was frustrated. How could he make the pirate talk without setting himself up for an insult? He could always just ask America the reason for the meeting. Although, there was something else he wanted to know.

"So tell me, aru, how did you become the captain of a ship like the Union Jack?" China asked.

"You tell me."

"This would be so much easier if you would just answer my questions properly, aru."

"Yes?" England raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I'd be more inclined to answer them if I wasn't stuck here in a cell."

"Would you talk?"

"I'm talking now."

China let out an annoyed breath. "Would you answer my questions, aru?"

"Possibly."

"I would prefer a yes."

"I would prefer not being here. Care to make a deal, then?"

"No deal is necessary, aru. Just answer me, and then maybe I'll consider giving you some freedoms."

"Deals are always necessary. So how about you give me some freedoms and I'll consider answering your question."

Frustrating and difficult indeed. "Before I consider your deal, at least answer this: what was your meeting with America about? To be honest, it doesn't matter if you don't answer, since I could just go and ask America himself."

"America doesn't know anything." England snorted. "He just likes to think he does."

"What doesn't he know?"

"Good question. What don't you know? In fact, what don't I know?"

"All good questions, aru. What would you say the answers to them are?"

"Hell if I know."

This wasn't going anywhere. Without another word, China turned and left, contemplating what England had said. If anything, the pirate captain was certainly an interesting character.


	13. Stupid Heroic Pirates

**A/N: Oh, the feeling you get when you want to know something so badly that you'll do just about anything to find out.**

**Delicious.**

**Krystal: Is it really that hard to guess?**

* * *

><p>"America, may I have a word with you?"<p>

Oh, wonderful. America had already come to terms with the fact that he was in trouble, and he wasn't looking forward to the punishment. No, he figured that making deals with pirates and sneaking out to meet them in the middle of the night wasn't exactly smiled upon. "Yes, sir?" he asked hesitantly.

China stopped in front of him. "I was wondering how well you know this England." It was more of a statement than a question, but America knew he had to answer anyway.

Well, he was a hotheaded, gentlemanly, clean-freak pirate. He apparently had some kind of amnesia. England may or may not be his actual name. Did America know anything else? He knew that England was only about a year older than him. His crew respects him even though he's younger than most of them.

"He likes having things his own way," America went with, figuring that China wanted something that would be useful to him.

The fleet admiral nodded. "I figured as much, aru. So the reason you went to meet up with him," America held his breath, "was because you made some kind of deal with him?"

America laughed nervously. "Yeah, actually."

To his relief, China didn't stay on the topic any longer. "One more question, aru. Would it affect you negatively if I gave him some kind of freedom to move around the base?"

"Hm? No." Was China actually considering making a deal with England? That had to be it. England would do something like that, but America was surprised that China was even giving it some thought. It was both awesome and horrible at the same time. Granted, it was England.

~0~0~0~

England looked up at the sound of footsteps. They seemed hesitant, as if their owner was debating whether or not they actually wanted to come. Most likely China, England guessed. So he must have thought about the pirate's offer. England smirked; obviously the fleet admiral didn't like the decision he came to, which meant that it was in the captain's favor.

"You've decided?" England called out. He didn't want to seem too eager, as that would show weakness. And weakness was something that he didn't want to show, especially not now. No, not now.

China came into view. "Yes, I have, aru."

"And what have you decided?"

"You want to know something," China stated matter-of-factly. "And I want to know something, aru. Is that correct?"

England studied the fleet admiral closely, admittedly surprised that he'd reached that conclusion. "I suppose so." England nodded.

China continued, "That's why you made the deal with America." Yes. "Even though you knew there was a good chance he would be followed." No. "So there's some reason you chose to get caught." Yes. "Is that reason to find this thing out?"

No. "Actually, my reason for getting caught is much simpler than your idea. I'm sure America would proud of it, too."

The pirate could have sworn he saw China twitch ever so slightly. "I see. What is this reason of yours?"

"I think mutual trust is the best way to exchange information, don't you? We both want to know something, so once we determine that we can trust each other, we can share, correct?" England reasoned.

~0~0~0~

"I'm dead."

America dropped his head on the table. Lithuania, who was sitting next to him, rested a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. Why do you say that?"

Because England made a deal with China. Because America would have to see England again. Because England probably hated America. Because England forced America into a situation where America had to do something unheroic. Because everyone was worried about America, and it made America feel bad. Because France was a butt. Because that was nothing new. Because…

Here they come now. America lifted his head.

"America," China addressed. England followed behind him, expression passive.

America took a wary glance at the pirate, searching for any sign of hostility. "Yes, sir?" There weren't any that he could see.

"I have some other business to attend to." The fleet admiral nodded to England. "Would you mind keeping an eye on him, aru?"

Yeah, America was so dead. Hadn't China asked him this before? "No, I wouldn't mind."

China sighed. "Good."

He looked between America and England one final time before turning and leaving. Wonderful. As much as America wanted to break the awkward silence that fell, he didn't really want to risk it. He just hoped that Lithuania stayed to play peace keeper. Not that it was all that necessary; none of them even moved. So America simply sat there until he couldn't take being quiet.

"Alright!" he blurted out. Both of the others looked at him as if he had grown a third head. "I'm hungry. Who else wants to get food?" When Lithuania didn't immediately respond, America mouthed to him, _"Don't leave me."_

Lithuania nodded. "Food would be good."

America stared hopefully at England, who merely shrugged his consent. Feigning excitement, the admiral jumped up and, dragging Lithuania behind him, took off towards the kitchen. England trailed after silently, and America had to check to make sure he was there. Great, that made America's life slightly easier.

It was when they reached the dining room that Lithuania pulled away from America. "I'll go get the things to make sandwiches. America, stay here."

"What?" America waved his hand. "I can help you–"

"America," Lithuania repeated, more firm this time.

The admiral's shoulders slumped. "Fine."

Lithuania sighed and walked the rest of the way to the kitchen. America sighed and took a seat. England sat down across from him, looking more amused than anything. "What? What could you possibly want?" America snapped.

England raised an eyebrow. "I'm not mad at you."

"If you have a problem then you can just…" America blinked. "… Wait, what? Did you just say what I think you said?"

"Yes, I did," England said in exasperation. "It's sad how often I have to clarify for you, you twat."

England wasn't mad at him? That was more than fine with America, but… "Why aren't you mad at me? I would be; I did everything but sell you out! And how did you know that I thought you were mad? And why did you get caught? And why–?"

"Will you just belt up for one bloody second so I can answer you?" England cut him off.

"Aye aye, captain."

England nodded once. "Thank you. The reason that I am not mad at you is that you are not smart enough to 'sell me out' on purpose–"

"Hey, I'm not–"

"–So it was obviously not your fault."

"But I'm not stu–"

"It was quite blatant that you thought I was mad."

"–pid, I just–"

"Didn't think of it? My point precisely."

"–didn't want you to get caught because–"

"Oh, really?"

"–now I have to see you again. But–"

"Well, it's nice to see you too."

"–France had to follow me, the jerk. And now–"

"France?"

"–here you are," America finished. "Thank you for interrupting me. Geez. Why did you have to get caught, anyway?"

England snorted. "Do you really think I'd lead your navy friend right to my crew? Honestly, what do you take me for?"

America had to admit that that was pretty heroic. Stupid pirate. "Cool."

"Cool?"

"That – what you did – was pretty cool and…"

"And?"

America looked away. "I don't wanna say it."

"Why not?"

"Because… pirates."

England crossed his arms over his chest. "Pirates? You don't _want to_ say it because I'm a pirate?"

"What's taking Lithuania so long with that sandwich stuff?"

"America."

"Hm?"

"What was that thing you were about to say?"

"What… Oh! Heroic." America mentally cursed himself. "Dammit."

England smirked. "Heroic, huh? You're admitting that I did something heroic? Even though I'm a pirate?"

"Fine," America muttered. "You getting caught so that your crew wouldn't was heroic. Even though you're a pirate," he added to himself. Lately it had gotten so easy to forget that little detail.

"Need help remembering that fact?"

Jerk.


	14. Warning

**A/N: I like the word 'mulling'.**

**Anyway, enjoy~**

* * *

><p>Jerk.<p>

Why did America have to babysit England anyway? Especially when the prick had to stay in his room and refused to sleep on the floor. America shifted in his makeshift bed across the room. It wasn't comfortable; he had hardly gotten a pillow and a blanket! It could be worse, America guessed. But it was still annoying.

Oh, forget it. This sucked. Unable to fall asleep, America got up and, throwing a final glare at England's sleeping form, left to go… do something. He didn't know what yet. But it was going to be better than trying to sleep on the floor. Yeah. He let his feet lead the way and ended up at the kitchen. Why would anyone be surprised?

"I thought I heard a little mouse scuttling around."

America jumped and whipped around to face France. "Oh, right, give me a heart attack. That's fine. What the hell do you want?"

France chuckled. "So high strung, _mon ami._ What are you doing up at this time of the night? Bathroom, hunger, can't sleep, or just feeling guilty?" His eyes sparkled mischievously. "Is that it?"

"No." America frowned.

"Or," France smirked, "is it just denial?"

"No!"

France's expression suddenly turned serious. "Look, _Amerique_. Be careful. You're young, so you might not completely understand, but don't mess with the natural order of things. He's a pirate, and you're a navy admiral. There's no chance. You can't change that, so don't try. No matter how you feel or what happens, that's that, and you can't help him. Got it, _mon ami_?"

America blinked. "Why do you… What do you mean by that?"

France walked off, tossing his last words over his shoulder. "I'm sure you can figure that out for yourself, _Amerique_."

~0~0~0~

America had spent the rest of the night mulling over what France had said. It was just past dawn when he finally returned to his room. He was so out of it that he hardly even noticed that England was already awake, changing, and standing there shirtless as he came in, holding his button up in his hands.

England gave him a lazy stare. "Hm. So you decided to show up, did you?"

What was this, Question America Day? Geez. He did however see something that caught his attention. America rushed over and grabbed England's shoulders, facing the pirate's back. He ran his hand along England's right shoulder, from his neck to his arm. "Whoa, how did this happen?" America asked excitedly.

The pirate squirmed but otherwise didn't protest to being held. "The scar?"

"Yup." And there it was, a jagged, pale pink scar spanning across England's right shoulder. America shifted the other's arm, catching sight of another smaller, cleaner scar on the upper part of the limb. "That's so cool! What happened?"

England pulled away from him awkwardly and shook his head. "It's nothing."

America snorted. "Doesn't look like nothing."

"America." England took another step away and pulled on his shirt, buttoning it up. "Don't bother yourself over it." A soft curse escaped his lips and America guessed that he was having trouble with the buttons. "Now can we go get something to eat? I'm hungry."

To be honest, America had already eaten, but he nodded anyway. "Oh, right. You're not supposed to go anywhere without me, are you?"

England made a move to pick up his coat, but thought better of it. Being stuck inside all day, wearing it might make him a tad stuffy. He frowned. "Not you necessarily. Just a guard."

"Right, and I just got pinned with the job of babysitting you since I'm stuck here anyway." America rolled his eyes.

Although America couldn't see it, England flushed. "Y-you git. I don't need you to babysit me." His mind latched onto the second thing that America had said. "Why are you stuck here?"

America sighed. "Not here exactly, but I'm being held off of missions for a while. I don't know, after I got back, that's what the boss said. It just upsets me, I guess. You know, not being able to do anything. But I–"

"So that's why you aren't as cheerful as usual." For some reason that England opted to ignore, he felt the need to comfort the admiral. He was kind of the problem, after all. "It's okay. You don't have to be out doing everything for everyone. Especially after all of… that, a break would be beneficial for you. I'm sure that someone can relieve you from the task of watching me, so why don't you just go home and spend some time with your brother… Canada, wasn't it? I'll be fine here, you twat. Go relax."

America stared at him, surprised and a bit warm inside. "Uh, yeah, okay. Are you sure you'll be fine? I mean, it's just that…"

As much as England wanted to launch into a lecture, now was hardly the time and his stomach was killing him. "I said that I'd be fine, didn't I, you bloody git? Now let's go; I'm starving," he reminded.

"Oh, right."

~0~0~0~

Once he had gotten England food, America sat across the table, staring at the pirate. England had yelled at him (repeatedly) for it and threatened him, but America didn't look away. He couldn't quite wrap his mind around the fact that England had comforted him. He had tried to cheer him up! Maybe America's semi-moping had bothered him. Or maybe…

"For the last bloody time, quit staring at me, git!"

America blinked at him innocently. "Why?"

"Why," England repeated slowly in an annoyed tone, "because I said so. Is that a good enough reason?"

"No, you need a better one," America declared.

England's eyes narrowed. "Oh, you little…"

Before America had the chance to interrupt England, the door burst open, and a frustrated looking Canada walked in. "America, there you are! I've been looking all over for you!"

"And you–"

"–didn't think to look in the kitchen for him?" England interjected.

"Hey!"

Canada sighed. "Good point."

"That's not–"

"It is true, and you know it," England said.

America huffed, recognizing the words he'd said himself. "Fine, whatever. Did you want something, Canada?"

England muttered something under his breath, and Canada glanced at him before responding to America. "N-not really…" If Canada were to be honest, he would admit that he didn't feel comfortable speaking in front of the pirate. It was just… weird.

At England's expectant glare, America spoke again. "Yeah, I've been kinda ignoring you, haven't I? Sorry, Bro, I've just had a lot on my mind. But that's really no excuse. I can ask…" Not France (definitely not France), so who? "… someone to take over my… current job, and we can have some totally awesome Brother Bonding time, 'kay? Sound good?"

Canada smiled, the small motion betraying his excitement. "Yeah, sounds good. If I remember correctly, Admiral Germany's crew just got back from another mission, so you could ask one of them to, uh…"

"Watch me?" England guessed.

"Err, yes," Canada said uneasily.

The pirate raised an eyebrow. "You know, I won't bite you."

Based on what America had told him about England, Canada didn't quite believe that.


	15. Storytelling

**A/N: Mm, crushed ice. Does anyone read these author's notes?**

**Happy Easter~**

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><p>America had left them with the instructions to "not let France get England drunk."<p>

Now England sat, guarded by Italy and Japan, in a room near the dining hall, or what appeared to be referred to as the "hangout." It was pretty plain, aside from a few chairs, two tables, and a small refrigerator. Italy had convinced Germany to let him and Japan watch England when the blondes got into a staring match. Of course, England wasn't going to admit anything about that, and the tense atmosphere didn't seem to bother Italy. Japan, on the other hand, looked to be just a tad bit uncomfortable.

Look wise, but not in personality, Italy reminded the pirate of Romano. If not for the carefree smile and cheery disposition, England may have mistaken the former for the other. Come to think of it, Romano did have a brother. Could this be him? It was a possibility, though England didn't want to ask.

"So then I offered to make pasta," Italy chattered excitedly, "but Germany said that he wasn't in the mood for any! I asked him what was wrong, and he told me nothing and to forget about it. But I knew that it wasn't nothing and that something was bothering him, so I tried to find out, right? Because I wanted to cheer him up. But he found me snooping and yelled at me to stay out of his business. It was so scary!" Did this guy even need to breathe? "And to this day, I don't know what happened. He's better now, though, so that's good."

"Interesting," England said politely.

Italy beamed._ "Ve_, it is, isn't it?"

Never found out what happened… England sighed, sipping at his tea. "Yes, very interesting indeed."

"Mister Italy has been talking for a while," Japan spoke up with a slight apologetic nod. "Does Mister England have any stories to tell?" England's name rolled awkwardly off of Japan's tongue.

England hummed. Did he have any stories to tell? Maybe. It was hard to choose. "Anything in particular?" he asked. The other two shook their heads. "Well, there was this one time…"

~0~0~0~

In short, America had confided everything to Canada. Canada listened to him quietly, nodding and frowning. "Well, that's basically it," America finished. "So… what do you think?"

Should Canada respond honestly? Yes. "I don't particularly enjoy the idea of you being all buddy-buddy with a pirate, no."

America frowned. "What's wrong with it?"

Canada sighed. "America, it's not right. He's–"

"—a pirate captain and I'm a navy admiral? But those are just titles, aren't they?" America scowled, genuinely confused. "Not something that has restrictions on who we can be friends with?"

Canada didn't like the idea of his brother being friends with a pirate. It wasn't America. America had never been fond of pirates, as long as Canada could remember. Then again, the admiral had a habit of trying to make friends with everyone. Canada just didn't realize that "everyone" included pirates.

"America…"

"Canada. Don't. I know what you're going to say. So don't. England isn't just a pirate; he's more than that. Canada, he's a person, like both of us, so stop talking about him like he's some horrible, evil thing. He's not. I'm sure that you could actually call him by name. It may seem otherwise, but I guarantee that he won't bite you. Well, he might bite me, but that'll be my own fault. Please, Canada, just try. England really isn't bad once you get to know him. Trust me, especially since he's at the base and I know that he's too smart to start and sort of stupid fight."

There was some part deep inside of Canada that was touched by his brother's speech, but another part that just worried even more. Oh, he had a feeling that this would most definitely not end well. "America, that may be, but England is still a pirate and there are still rules. You understand that, right?"

America rolled his eyes. "Yeah, fine, but still. Just try, please? For me?"

"Fine, I'll try."

America grinned. "Good. Now then, what shall we do next, bro? I promised you some bonding. And sadly for you, nowadays it's hard for us to spend this much uninterrupted time together."

"Yes," Canada scoffed. "Sad for me."

"It is."

"Right."

~0~0~0~

Nothing more was said on the subject of England, and after a long weekend of fun and games, America was ready to go back to the base. (Definitely not to see England.) When he got there, all he got were a few nods until he reached Italy and Japan in the hangout.

Japan looked up and nodded. "Welcome back, Mister America."

America grinned. "Yeah, thanks. It's good to be back. Uh, where's England? Aren't you guys supposed to be watching him?"

"He took a book to your room and asked to spend some time alone," Italy explained cheerily.

"Hai." Japan nodded again.

"Thanks." America smiled brightly and gave them a thumbs-up before taking off.

Canada sighed, watching his brother leave. Japan glanced at him. "He really is fond of Mister England, isn't he?" the smaller man asked.

"Yes, he is," Canada agreed. "More so than is good for him."

Italy didn't understand how being fond of someone could be bad, but he didn't ask about it.

~0~0~0~

When America burst through the door to his room, the last thing he expected to be met with was a flintlock aimed straight at his face. He flinched, as anyone's natural reaction would have been.

"Oh, it's only you." England lowered the gun and shrugged. "It wasn't loaded."

America glared at England, who sat calmly, propped up against the headboard of the bed, book in hand. "You couldn't have told me that before?" he huffed, and then laughed, walking over to take a seat on the edge of his bed. "What, did you get a reward for being good or something I can only imagine how much you missed me. But not to worry, the awesome me has decided to grace you with my presence once again."

England rolled his eyes and set the book down. "You're in a better mood."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Well, calling oneself awesome tends to give away the fact that that person has a gaping bloody ego – which you do – and that they feel good about themselves. Thus, from your current attitude, I can deduce that you are quite elated at the moment."

America snorted, the dorky grin never leaving his face. "Ha, I guess I can't argue with you and all you're psychological mumbo jumbo, but I hope that it's for more than a moment that my usual aweso— good mood returns."

"Anything can happen," England said mysteriously.

True enough. "Wanna boost my spirit even more?"

"Do I want to further inflate your already larger than life ego? No thank you, I'm fine."

"Please?"

"No."

"I'll leave you alone for the rest of the day. Or, well, I won't get on your nerves. Er, try to."

Hm, tempting offer. England frowned. "What would I have to do?"

"Tell me a story."

"A story?"

"About how you became captain of your Union Jack."

"You're still on that?"

"I want to know!"

"I can tell."

"Fine, if you don't want to tell me, then I can just be extra annoying."

England huffed. "Well, I was kind of forced into the role. Also, you just called yourself annoying. I agree with that statement."

America stuck out his tongue at the pirate. "No way, more detailed than that."

"Okay, fine, you twat. Ah, that was a long time ago. Let's see… it all started like this…"


	16. I: First Aid

**A/N: We are now in the Captain Arc. This has to be one of my favorite arcs, if not my favorite. Truth be told, I had way too much fun writing this. In some parts, it may be kind of bad that it entertains me so much. This chapter is the main one of those. Just so you know, there are quite a few things that I mean not to explain in here. Don't worry about it too much for now, but some of those things will be hinted at/explained later.**

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><p><em>The first thing he was aware of was the pressure on his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. The boy's whole body ached, his head more than anything else. He began to concentrate on bringing air into his lungs, choosing not to focus on anything else until he got used to the feeling. Everything was black, and when he gained full consciousness, he opened his eyes.<em>

_The first thing he saw was the vast, open blue sky. He was lying on his back. With sight came smell, a rusty, sour, metallic taste that filled his lungs. Looking around, he sat up, shocked. Bodies littered the large deck of the ship he was on; everything was covered in blood. He, too, was drenched with it – it streaked his hair and stuck to his skin and clothes. _

_He jumped to his feet and took a few steps forward. He himself didn't seem to be too injured, but he could feel a bump on his head and his shoulder throbbed. What had happened? Why is everyone…?_

_Dead. They were dead. No one, other than him, was alive._

_A sick feeling overtook him, his chest closing up. _Breathe_, he told himself in vein, but the air was suffocating. _Come on, just breathe!_ Just the thought seemed impossible._

"Oye!_ Are you okay? Hey!"_

_The boy looked up, startled at the new voice, to see an older man boarding the deck from another, smaller ship. He appeared to be alone, but the boy wasn't exactly calm at the moment. It was a few seconds before he found his voice. "Wh-who are you?"_

_The man jogged over to him, carefully skirting the other… bodies. "I'm Spain. Are you okay?"_

_Okay? Did he look okay? The boy shook his head. "Who are you?" he asked more forcefully. "And why are you here? And what happened?"_

_Spain studied the boy curiously. "Spain, I saw the ship, and I don't know," he listed off._

_The boy crossed his arms over his chest, forcing himself not to flinch as sharp pain shot through his shoulder. "That doesn't answer anything."_

_The older man couldn't help but chuckle at the kid's stubbornness. "Well, what's your name? We'll start there."_

_Silence. His name? "I… don't… know…?"_

"_No? Do you remember anything? Anything at all?"_

_There was a long eerie silence as the boy thought. What did he know? "Nothing."_

"_Nothing…. Hm. Well, I can't just call you 'kid' forever, can I? Let me think… Jack. _Si,_ that'll work."_

_~0~0~0~_

_The name lasted for about ten minutes before Spain decided that it didn't fit. He had been attempting to make small talk as he checked the boy over for injuries and dressing any that he found as best he could. They were on Spain's ship, as he had decided that was the best place to be._

_The boy toyed with a pocket watch that they had found in his coat as Spain wrapped bandages around a jagged cut on his shoulder. The watch was caked with dried blood, and he couldn't make out any features on it, but it felt like it held value._

"_No… Jack just doesn't have the right ring to it, you know? It doesn't fit you. Is there anything you'd like to be called?"_

_He shook his head; he didn't know many names._

"_No? Then how about England? Yeah, England, that works! What do you think?"_

_He shrugged, not seeing a problem with it._

_Spain seemed happy about finally figuring out a name. "Ah, _si,_ England it is then."_

_England, huh? The boy guessed that he could get used to that. Something was bothering him, though. "Why are you helping me?"_

"_Why?" Spain blinked. "Well, it isn't everyday that a person stumbles upon a dead ship and an amnesiac of a fifteen year old boy. Who else would help you?"_

"_Fifteen?" England asked._

"Si,_ fifteen. That's how old you look, anyway."_

_England let the watch drop, catching the chain between his fingers. "Okay, fifteen. Amnesiac?"_

_Spain laughed softly, tying the last of the gauze around the boy's shoulder. He wasn't a doctor, but he knew enough first aid to be of use. "It means you don't remember anything. Other than how to talk, obviously." He patted England lightly on his uninjured shoulder before fetching a clean red coat with gold embroidery and handing it to the boy._

"_Thanks," England muttered._

"De nada._ So, what I'm wondering is what was a kid like you doing on a pirate ship like that?"_

_England blinked. "Pirate ship?"_

"_Mm. The Union Jack, to be more specific. It's a pretty infamous ship."_

_Jack… Union Jack… That explained the name, at least. The boy shrugged. "How should I know?"_

_Spain chuckled. "Who knows? It would seem the only thing you lost was your memory though; your attitude still seems to be intact."_

"_I don't have an attitude."_

"_You could've fooled me."_

"_You never answered my question," England said suddenly._

_Spain raised an eyebrow. "And which question would that be?"_

"_Who are you?"_

"_No, I think I've answered that. Twice. I'm Spain, remember? Three times now."_

"_Fine." England huffed. "What are you?"_

"Si,_ that's a better question. I'm the captain of the _Espaῆa_, the ship you are currently on," Spain explained, gesturing around him._

_The boy frowned. "What kind of ship is it? And don't just give me some obvious answer like, 'A big one'!"_

"_Well, it is a pretty big ship…"_

"… _Really?"_

_Spain sighed. "No, it's actually average sized. I'm happy with it, though."_

_England's eyebrows furrowed indignantly. "Whatever, just answer the question."_

"Vale_, fine. You see,… this is a pirate ship."_

"_Spain!"_

"_Are there still injuries I haven't looked at?" Spain asked, changing the subject. "You're not still bleeding, are you? You sure that's all of them?"_

"_Spain!" England cried again, frowning. "A pirate ship? Are you trying to mess with me?"_

_Spain shook his head. "No, I'm serious. This is a pirate ship."_

"_Why didn't you tell me?"_

"_It wasn't necessary." Spain shrugged._

"_But you still could've told me!" England insisted. "Doesn't it seem a bit important to you?"_

"_There," Spain shook his head sadly, clicking his tongue, "is that attitude again."_

"_I do not have an attitude!"_

"_Oh, but you do."_

_England bristled. "Shut up!"_

"_A bit touchy, are we?"_

"_I am not!"_

"_And defensive."_

"_I. Am. _Not!"


	17. II: The Cove

**A/N: I don't even know where this chapter came from, but I deemed the idea as necessary. Early update because I may not get the chance tommorow. Situations come up, and it just so happens that my brother has a court date so I'm going to my friend's house for the whole weekend. Should be fun.**

**Thank you, reviewers~!**

**Unknown Variable: I think that may just be your computer or something. I've checked [on three computers] and it worked fine for me, and no one else has pointed it out, so that's all I can assume.**

**Jimmy Collins: Thanks~! ^^ I hope not to disappoint on it. Half of my planning on this story probably went solely into England's past and anything relating to it, and I've gotten it right to how I want it. The Union Jack is kind of a ghost ship, in a way, but I suppose you'll have to read to find out if you like what I've done with England's past, as I'm to where I'm completely satisfied with it and most likely won't be changing it [drastically, at least. I may add a few small details.]**

**Enjoy~**

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><p>"<em>Where are we going?"<em>

"_The Cove, _tu bajo idiota."

"_What's the Cove?"_

"_You'll see soon. _Caramba_, you sure do ask a lot of questions."_

"_Why can't you just tell me?"_

"_Too _facil, si?"

"… _What?"_

"_That would be too easy, yes?"_

_England huffed. "Do you have to be difficult?"_

"Y tu."

_England gave up on the conversation and walked to the other side of the deck, sulking. If Spain didn't want to tell him, fine. He wasn't stupid; he knew that he wouldn't like where they were going, and that was why Spain wouldn't say anything about it. But it wasn't like England had any choice in the matter._

_~0~0~0~_

_Great._

_The Cove was a pirates' hideout. Why did England not see that coming? It should've been at least somewhat obvious, now that he thought about it. But here he was, while Spain was off doing who knows what, while he was simply told to "Stay put."_

_Stay put? As if._

_Instead of following orders like a good kid, England decided to explore. Some of the pirate's looked up at him as he passed, but otherwise didn't acknowledge his existence. None of it caught much of his interest, until he picked up some of a conversation. "… all dead."_

_He stopped and pinpointed the source of the words: a group of four older pirates, a lot more tough-looking than Spain was. One of them laughed in response to what was said. "Y'a, no surprise there. That ship always h's 'ad lotsa enemies. Only a matter of time before it 'ad to h'ppen."_

_All dead… Pirates… Were they talking about the Union Jack? It seemed like a reasonable assumption. He tried to sneak closer to hear them better, but one of them focused his attention on the boy. "'ey, what's a little kid doin' in a place like this, eavesdroppin' no less?"_

_England felt a hand close down on his collar from behind, pulling him back, and then the cold metal against his jugular. "Good question, mate," a menacing voice breathed into his ear. "What're you doin' here?"_

_A chill went down his spine, but he refused to be intimidated. Or at least, to show it. "What's it to you?"_

_The knife pressed harder into England's neck, dangerously close to breaking skin. "I asked you a question, kid. If you know what's good for ya, you'll answer it," his captor hissed._

_England didn't allow himself time to think; he brought his heel into the man's shin as hard as he could muster. The grip on the knife and his collar loosened enough to allow him to writhe free, and he ran for it. Another man tried to grab him, and England stumbled, but managed to stay on his feet, only to run face first into someone else._

_A hand was placed gently on his shoulder and a familiar voice said, "I thought I told you to stay put."_

_The boy looked up, green eyes meeting green eyes. "Spain!" England took a step back hastily._

"_Spain," one of the other pirates repeated. "I didn't know that you babysat."_

_England opened his mouth to protest, but Spain clamped his hand over it. "I don't," Spain said evenly._

"_Then what's with the kid?" another snarled, and England recognized the voice of the one who had grabbed him._

"_Him?" Spain laughed. "Well, you see, he isn't just some kid to be ordered around or told what to do. I had hoped that he would stay out of trouble, but evidently that was too much to ask for. So what of it? There's some rule against kids now? Sorry if I'm a bit behind, it's just that I haven't been here for a while and maybe need to do some catching up."_

"_Bastard," one spat, rising to his feet. This wasn't just another pirate, though; he looked to be their leader. "Where the hell do you get off acting all high and mighty, like you own the place? You and the kid!"_

_Spain kept his grip on England, knowing that if he didn't it would only make matters worse. And the situation was bad enough as it is. England struggled weakly, wanting to tell their precious leader just who was acting 'high and mighty'. He grabbed Spain's hand that was over his mouth, but didn't try to remove it, instead choosing to glare at the man who was challenging them. It wasn't worth it to try and start a fight._

"_Sorry," Spain said again. "We were just leaving anyway. We didn't mean to cause any trouble, did we?" He directed the last part to England, who shook his head as best he could. "Then we'll be going, _si?"

_He all but dragged England out of the area, and only uncovered his mouth when he was sure that nobody was around. "What were you thinking, _idiota?"_ Spain demanded._

_England rolled his eyes, ignoring the question. "You were there the whole time, weren't you?"_

_Spain snorted. "No. Only long enough to see the kind of _problemos_ you got yourself into."_

"_And you couldn't be bothered to give me a hand? What was that bit about helping me you told me earlier?"_

_Much to England's frustration, Spain brushed off his anger by laughing at him. "And would you have let me help you, _Inglaterra?"

"… _No."_

"_Well, we can just give you a hat and a ship, then, and call you captain!"_

"_Captain?" a new voice broke into their conversation, and they looked up to see a man around Spain's height and build with blond hair and green eyes. "Then you are the one I should ask for a favor?"_

_When England realized that the man was talking to him, he opened his mouth to deny it, and say that Spain was just kidding, but the pirate beat him to it. "Yes, he is, in fact."_

_For a moment England just stood there, opening and closing his mouth, unsure what to say, realizing that the other two were waiting for him to speak. Say something already! "Uh, yes. Err, what is this favor you want to ask about?"_

"_Right. My name is Switzerland, and I was wondering if you could help find someone for me."_

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><p><strong>AN: Review! I love hearing what you guys have to say~**


	18. III: Pocket Watch

**A/N: Because I'm sad and need something to cheer me up.**

**Jimmy Collins: It's related. Though I don't find a week that long of a time...**

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><p><em>England glanced at Spain, but the pirate wasn't going to help him. Sighing, he turned his attention back to Switzerland. "Okay. Who is it that you're trying to find?"<em>

"_My little sister," Switzerland told him. "We went to a town a day's travel from here and we got separated. Now I cannot find her."_

"_So why are you recruiting the help of pirates?" Spain had to ask. _Pirate,_ England corrected mentally_. Not pirates.

_Switzerland angled his head ever so slightly, expression remaining neutral. "You two don't seem as barbaric as most of the others. Besides, there's nothing personal in it for you, so I suspect that you'll remain fairly neutral in the matter, especially after we part ways."_

_Spain straightened his posture. "Although, being pirates, we can't just work for free."_

"_Yes, I understand that. So then, if you complete this task, what would you like as a reward?"_

"_A favor," England answered at the same time Spain said, "A ship."_

_The boy blinked up at him. "A ship?"_

"_Well," Switzerland spoke up before the two could start inevitably bickering, "if you are successful in finding my sister, then I don't see why you couldn't have both. The sooner we get going, though, the better."_

"_Right." Spain nodded. "So now we go, then?"_

_~0~0~0~_

"_I don't like this. It doesn't bode well," England muttered, frowning. "Making me play captain… It's stupid. Where's _your_ crew, anyway?"_

_Spain chuckled at the boy's ramblings from where he stood leaning against the rail of the ship. Switzerland was steering since he was the one that knew where they were going. "My crew is on a vacation of sorts. I just happened to be alone when I found you. Not that it matters; Rome is __contenté__ for the time to go out with his son, Romano, and the rest of the crew is always up for some time to relax."_

"_Why aren't you with them?" England inquired, honestly curious. It just… seemed odd for a captain to be away from his crew._

_After a moment, Spain shrugged. "Gut feeling, _supongo que_. Things tend to happen like that. You won't get very far questioning it. Unless you remember something that is…"_

_England let out a frustrated breath. "No, I don't remember. Okay? We've been over this."_

"Si, lo siento_. Is it bothering you?"_

"_Yes it is. Good job for being able to pick that up."_

_Spain spread his hands out before him in surrender. "I apologize for offending you; that was not my intention. You may be upset, but this is for the best whether you know it or not."_

_The boy frowned. "How do know that?"_

"_Gut feeling," Spain said mysteriously._

"_Spain…?"_

"_Si?"_

"_How… Why would having my memory back help me get further when I'm questioning things?"_

_The pirate rolled his eyes and ruffled England's hair. "Because otherwise you are just running yourself in circles, _idiota."

"_I… suppose so."_

_~0~0~0~_

_Spain nudged England. "Land ho, captain."_

_England scowled. "Must you insist on calling me that?"_

"Si,_ I must."_

_Switzerland, who had just docked the ship, walked over to them. "We should get going. I wish to find her before dark."_

"_Yes." England nodded sagely, figuring that he should at least take this seriously. "If we split up, we'll cover more ground in a shorter amount of time. That way we'll have this done in no time and everyone's happy."_

_Spain smiled, looking pleased with England. Switzerland, too, seemed impressed._

_England raised an eyebrow. "I take that as a yes to my idea? Shall we go, then? Well? Hm, then I'll take that as a 'let's go'." With that, he jumped off the railing onto the dock and made his way into the town, keeping an eye out. Switzerland had shown them a picture of his sister, Liechtenstein, so England knew what he was looking for._

_After walking for a while and not seeing who he was looking for, England decided that if Liechtenstein was lost, then she probably wouldn't be out in the open. He took out his pocket watch, hoping it worked, and realized that his pocket rubbed enough of the blood off that he could now make out the details. There was an engraving of a ship with wave motif around the edges and the words "Arthur Kirkland"._

_Suddenly losing interest, he dropped the watch back into his pocket and slipped down the nearest alley, soon finding them to be like a maze. If he'd been paying more attention, then maybe he would have been able to prevent the sharp pain that shot through his head and the blackness that overcame his consciousness._

_~0~0~0~_

I'm dead.

_That was the first comprehensive thought that came to England's mind. He certainly felt dead; his shoulder felt like it was on fire, his brain was pounding through his skull, and his entire body hurt. The pain was the only indication was he was in fact still alive. He squirmed, instantly finding that his hands and feet were bound, and there was a gag over his mouth. Something wet dripped down the back of his neck. England could only assume that it was blood._

"_Are you okay?" a soft voice asked. A hand rested on his shoulder, which, no matter how gentle it was, sent shots of pain through him. "You're hurt!"_

_England felt the gag around his mouth loosen. Blinking open his eyes, he turned his head to meet the gaze of the young girl sitting over him, trying to adjust to the dim light. When he did, he found that luck had a cruel sense of humor. "Liech…tenstein…?"_

_Liechtenstein tilted her head, obviously taken aback that the boy seemed to know her, before unknotting the rope that bound his hands. As soon as she was done, England sat up shakily and tugged free the rope around his feet. "Thanks," he said after a moment of silence._

_She nodded. "You're welcome. But you shouldn't move your arm so much because of that wound on your shoulder. Here." She tugged at his coat and he helped her get it off. Liechtenstein considered him for a moment before tying the coat around him into a makeshift sling to keep his right arm still. "There," she said, satisfied with her work. "That should do it."_

_England shifted his arm slightly in the sling, earning a small glare. "Thanks. But we should get going."_

"_What do you mean?" Liechtenstein frowned._

"_Your brother – Switzerland – he's looking for you. I'm supposed to help find you. Also, getting out of here in general is a good idea, don't you think?"_

_She shook her head. "Oh, I've tried; there is no way out. I'm sorry for being a burden and getting you into this… but…"_

_England reached over, ignoring the burning sensation in his muscles, and touched her cheek. "It's fine. It's not your fault. I agreed to this, so if anything I should take the blame, okay? So let's get out of here and get you reunited with your brother, okay? Can we do that?"_

"_It's yourself that you should be worried about." She laughed softly. "You're the one who's hurt, after all. Not me."_

_He shrugged and instantly regretted it. "Ouch… yes, you're right… ugh…" England found himself desperately wishing he hadn't hurt his shoulder in the first place. And how did he hurt it, anyway? And what happened on the ship, the Union Jack, and why he was on the ship, and why there seemed to be something that Spain wouldn't tell him, and… There were too many questions, and the only way there appeared to be any answers would be if his memory magically came back. Right, because that was so likely. Sitting here wasn't doing anything, though. England stood up, testing his footing, and offered his hand to Liechtenstein. "Let's go."_

_Liechtenstein stood without taking his hand. "But I've tried to leave already."_

"_Yes, well, you've never had me when trying to escape," England tried to assure. He hoped he sounded a whole lot more confident than he felt. He needed to have faith that he could do this. The battle was half over now that he'd found Liechtenstein, right? Or mostly over. Mostly would be splendid._

"_Okay."_

_England located a door and tried the knob. It didn't twist. Cursing, he thought of his other options. There was a window – where the light came from – but it was too high to reach and there was nothing to stand on. They could try to plow through the wall, but England scolded himself mentally for even considering that a possibility. The only way was the door, and England had an idea on how to open it. He tapped the door. Solid wood, no openings. Very well then. "Liechtenstein, stay back."_

_The girl took a step away from him. England initiated his plan – breaking off the door knob. Gathering up his strength, he kicked it as hard as he could. There was a crack, and England couldn't tell if it came from the door or his foot. Maybe both. Either way, he repeated the action, and this time the damage to the knob was visible. It came off the door with a few hard tugs._

_England opened the door quietly and gestured for Liechtenstein to follow before limping into the hallway. The coast was clear until they reached another door. England winced at the large crash that came from the other side. A logical part of his mind told him to turn and run, but curiosity got the best of him. He inched open the door and slipped inside._

_The room was full of alarmed thugs. England drew his eyes across the room and learned why. There stood Spain, looking as if he meant business. Spain's eyes met his, giving away England's location. Someone grabbed his from behind, ripping his arm from the sling and twisting it behind his back, forcing him to his knees. England grimaced as he felt blood start to ooze out of his shoulder and down his arm and side. The barrel of a gun pressed into his throat._

"_Well, well," England's captor snarled, "look what we have here. A little rat sneaking around the place. You wanna know what we do to rats around here?" England hissed at him. "I'll show you."_

_His finger tightened around the trigger, but before he could pull it, a gunshot sounded. England felt a puff of air at his neck before the man dropped him. A silence fell, though it didn't last long. All England could do when the fight broke out was to sit on the floor and pray that Liechtenstein was safe and hidden from view. It was over as soon as it began._

_Spain rushed over to England. _"Oye,_ are you okay?"_

_Switzerland too came over, and England realized that he must have fired the first shot. "Yes, are you hurt?"_

"_The…hallway…" England breathed. "Mm fine. She's in the hallway."_

_~0~0~0~_

_Upon Spain's request, England awkwardly sketched the blueprint for his ship while Liechtenstein dressed the reopened wound on his shoulder. It wasn't comfortable, but at least most of the pain had faded. Now England just felt sore all over. "Spain!" he called. "I'm done!"_

_The pirate walked over and assessed his work. "It looks an awful lot like the Union Jack," he commented._

"_Does it? I didn't notice." England had just drawn based on the engraving on the pocket watch._

_Spain pointed. "And what are those?"_

"_Vents."_

"_What are they for?"_

"_So that you can hear what's going on above deck when you stand near them."_

"_Well, _tonto niño,_ that's a smart idea. But we can't sit around for long. We have business elsewhere, and it might take us a week or two to get there."_

_England frowned, not liking the sounds of that one bit. "What business?"_

_Spain grinned. "To gather your crew. _¿Qué más?"

"_Crew?"_

"Si,_ your crew. Starting with Prussia."_


	19. IV: Intuition

"_I thought you said we were here on business," England complained, resting his head on his hand as he watched Spain stuff his face across from him. "Not to shove food down your throat."_

_Spain at least had the decency to swallow his mouthful of food before responding. "We _are_ here on business, _camarón_.__ But it's hard to work on an empty stomach and this food is the best I've had in a long time."_

_England sighed and looked down at his empty plate. "Yes, that's great and all, but can't we just get this whole thing over with?"_

"_Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine," Spain muttered under his breath._

"_I'm serious. It's not like I actually want to be here anyway."_

_They were sitting in a restraint in the town that Spain had said that they would find this Prussia person. England didn't see the point of why Spain was doing this. As far as he could tell, they were wasting their time. Did Spain actually expect this guy to drop everything and come with them? England thought that Spain was just getting his hopes up, and he was almost certain that this would end in disaster one way or another._

_Spain looked up at him when he finished his food, taking in England's expression. "Penny for your thoughts?" he offered._

"_You are going to get me killed," England told him matter-of-factly. "And you can keep your penny."_

_The pirate pushed his plate away and set his elbows on the table. "What makes you say that?"_

_England shrugged. "Gut feeling."_

"_Ah, intuition." Spain chuckled. "A leader's sense."_

"_Shut up," the boy huffed. "I'm no leader, not like you try to make me out to be!"_

"_You could've fooled me, especially with that attitude of your. I'm sure if you found the right crew that they would follow you to the ends of the Earth."_

"_I don't know what you see in me, but it isn't there."_

_Spain leaned forward. "Look, kid, there's a reason you were on that _pirate_ ship, and another reason you are still alive. Call it fate or whatever you want. So doesn't it make sense that this you have to do? Or you could call it _my_ gut feeling! I don't know the reasoning, but this is what _you_ are supposed to be doing! Got it?"_

_England stood up, turned away from the table, and began walking away._

"_England? Hey! Where are you going? Come back here!"_

"_Don't follow me," was all England said before disappearing from sight._

You know what? Spain wants me to get a crew, fine! I'll find this Prussia guy on my own! Then I'll be the one who's laughing!_ He kept walking until he heard someone yell, "Ha! Good one, Prussia!"_

_Prussia? England stopped and found himself in front of a pub. He walked in and tapped someone on the shoulder. "Excuse me, sir?"_

_The man looked down at him. "What, kid? This is a pub, you know that?" he asked irritably._

"_I'm looking for a man named Prussia." Forget all pretenses. This is what he wanted; to prove to Spain that he could do stuff on his own without his help. He didn't need it!_

_The man gave him a weird look before laughing. "You serious, kid? What would Prussia want with a shrimp like you?"_

_England snorted. "It isn't what _he_ wants with _me_; _I_ want to talk to _him_."_

"_Hey, Prussia," the man called and gestured to England. "This kid says he wants to talk to you!"_

_Another man with shaggy white hair and red eyes looked up before walking over, studying England. "And who might you be that has business with the awesome me, Short Stack?"_

_England opened his mouth, but found himself at a loss for words. What was he supposed to say? There had to be some reason Spain wanted him and thought he'd come, right?_

_The first man chuckled. "Where'd all that bravado you had earlier go, kid? You're not scared, are you?"_

"_No," England said instantly. "I just… I, uh…" He cleared his throat and turned to Prussia. "Do you, um, happen to know a man named Spain, by any chance?"_

_Prussia cocked his head to the side. "Spain? Yeah, I know him. Why?"_

"_Spain…" What could he say? England swallowed nervously. "Spain said something about getting a crew together and he wanted you to be on it – err, a part of it."_

"_Yeah? So why isn't Spain here to tell me about it?"_

_Because I ran away from him. England chose not to respond._

_When England didn't say anything, Prussia decided to ask a different question. "Whose crew is it?"_

_Well, that was easy. "Mine."_

"_Are you joking or what, Short Stack?" Prussia snickered. "A small fry like you lead a crew?"_

"_I'm not kidding."_

_Prussia looked England over again carefully. "Yeah? Well, I guess if you want me to take you seriously, then you'll have to beat me at something."_

_England took a deep breath. "Name your game."_

"_Sword fighting." Prussia smirked._

_England opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by someone grabbing his shoulder and a shout of, "England!"_

"_I told you not to follow me!" England snapped, facing Spain._

_Spain snorted. "You expect me not to follow you when you go storming off like that?"_

_England frowned. "What do you want?"_

"_Don't fight him," Spain warned._

"_Spain, it touches my awesome heart to see you so worried about the kid," Prussia cut in. "It really does. But don't you think that this is Short Stack's choice? What do you say, kid?"_

_The boy didn't hesitate. "Fine. I accept your challenge."_

"_England, don't–"_

_Prussia grinned. "Too late; he already said yes. No backing out now. Ready, kid?" England nodded. "Get Short Stack a sword."_

_A man came over and handed England a blade, and the boy nodded his thanks, before taking the hilt in his right hand. Without warning, Prussia attacked him, drawing his own sword in one swift motion. England ducked back and narrowly missed having his stomach cut open. Prussia struck towards his sword arm next, and the boy just managed to avoid serious injury; however, the blade still cut deep into his arm._

_England jerked his arm back away from the blade, but stumbled back and stopped. It wasn't just the limb that hurt; only now did he remember his unhealed shoulder. He winced as he was forced to block another blow to the same arm. The motion was a distraction, England realized, as the sword swiftly turned down to open a cut on his thigh. The boy staggered back and fell to his knees._

"_England!" Spain called._

"_Spain," England panted, "don't… stop him."_

_Prussia laughed. "You heard him, Spain. Back off." He brought his foot down on England's chest, slamming the kid back first into the ground._

"_Prussia, stop," the pirate insisted. "You're going to kill him!"_

_The albino clicked his tongue and looked down at the boy beneath him. England met his gaze defiantly, refusing to flinch or back down in anyway. Prussia leaned all his weight on foot, purposely increasing the pressure on England's chest. The boy squinted a bit, but refused to look away. England couldn't breathe. He could already feel his mind going fuzzy, both from blood loss and lack of oxygen._

_Prussia smirked. "You know, it's been a long while since I've faced someone who could stare me down without flinching." England couldn't respond. "Fine. You know what? I'll join your crew. It'll be fun. Besides, someone has to teach you how to fight, Short Stack. On one condition, though: I'm your first mate."_

_He got off, stalked back to the bar, and took a long drink. England gasped for breath. Spain rushed over to help him. "Hey, England! Are you okay? Come on, say something!" he urged, shaking the boy._

_All England could say before he blacked out was, "I… told you that you… would get me… killed…"_


	20. V: Not With Spain

**A/N: Ha, finally! I know, right? I managed to beat Microsoft Word, which apparently hates this chapter and was preventing me from typing it. Still, though, expect more sporadic updates. To make up for the lateness, though, I will post the next chapter sometime later today[once I finish proofreading it].**

**To be honest, though it was fun to write, I'm not that satisfied with this chapter. What do you guys think?**

**Thank you to all who read and review~ You people are the only reason I continue updating this~**

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><p><em>Waking up was a tedious process. It was a few minutes before he gained any kind of level of self-consciousness. Opening his eyes was another battle. Once he won, it was still a small while before he could actually see the ceiling above his head. He shifted to see if he could feel his body, and immediately regretted it. Ouch, pain. There you are. Unfortunately, he began to his arm and leg burn at the effort. His head hurt, too, much more than it had before.<em>

"_Hey, Short Stack! Welcome back to life! I was starting to think you had died or something!"_

_England cringed at Prussia's voice and looked across the room to where the albino – his new first mate, England thought, mentally shuddering – and Spain were sitting at a table chatting. Spain smiled. "Ah, _estás despierto._ How are you feeling?"_

"_Bad," England said immediately, shooting a dark glare at Prussia, who merely smirked. "And hungry."_

_The response seemed to amuse both of the older men. "You should be; you've been asleep long enough," Spain informed him with a carefree aura hanging around him. "Would you like some lunch?"_

"_Yes… but how long have I been unconscious?"_

_Spain waved his hand dismissively. "Two… maybe three days. Who's counting?"_

"_Spain…"_

"_Si?"_

"_I hate you."_

"_Well," Spain sighed, "you have a concussion, right? Coupled with your other injuries, it's not very surprising that you were out for that long."_

_England frowned. "Fine then. I just strongly dislike you."_

_Spain laughed. "Would you like to strongly dislike me over some food, _tu bajo idiota?"

"_Stop calling me names I don't understand," England huffed. "But yes, I would prefer food."_

"Prefieres comida,"_ the pirate muttered. He got up, walked over to England, and ruffled the boy's hair. "And what food would you prefer?"_

_In a vain effort, England tried to duck away from the contact. "Something edible would be lovely." He shook his head as a last attempt before giving up. "Please."_

"_Since you asked so nicely…"_

_~0~0~0~_

_Once again, England had been left out on the details of what they were doing. He trudged along behind Spain, and the pirate gave him a long, dry look. "I hope you've learned your lesson about wandering off, _idiota."

_England snorted. "Maybe if you would tell me where we are I wouldn't have to go and see for myself."_

_Prussia had gone off to do who knows what on his own, leaving England with Spain, the jerks; both of them. They had stopped at the town where they were in the morning, and since had accomplished next to nothing. England was not in a good mood. Honestly, was everyone against him making his own decisions? It sure seemed that way._

_Whatever, he could deal with it. It wasn't as if he had much of a choice in the matter. He followed Spain until the pirate stopped and called out, _"Oye,_ Belgium! You there?"_

_A few moments later a woman appeared from around the corner, grinning when she saw Spain. "Well, well, if my eyes aren't deceiving me, you're Spain. How long has it been since we last met?" She looked at England. "And who's your friend? He's cute."_

_The boy flushed and opened his mouth to stutter out a response, but much to his frustration, nothing came out. Spain glanced at him and rubbed England's head. England squirmed away. "My _bajo_ friend here," Spain introduced, "is England. At least, I think this is him, because he usually isn't tied up for words."_

_England huffed and glared at Spain before turning back to Belgium. "It's nice to meet you."_

"_A pleasure. So how do you know Spain?" she asked._

"_Long story," Spain said shortly. England frowned; _no it isn't_._

"_And what," she turned her attention back to Spain, "are you here for? You didn't just come here without a reason. Cough it up; what do you want?"_

_Spain chuckled. "True. Actually, I'm putting a crew together, and was hoping you and your brother would join. You've always wanted to sail, right?"_

_Belgium smiled. "A pirate crew? So you're trying to get me involved with one of your crazy adventures, huh? I'd love to, but you'll have to ask my brother. I won't go without him."_

"_Of course. Do you know when he'll be back?"_

_England couldn't help but feel hope flare up in his chest. His head was still pounding and his entire body hurt, but this was proving to be much easier than it was with Prussia. This hope was crushed, however, when a deep voice spoke from behind Belgium._

"_I won't do it. Not if it has anything to do with Spain."_

_Belgium turned but the man was already walking away. "Netherlands, wait!" She shot Spain an apologetic look. "I'll go talk to him."_

"_I'll go with you," England offered. He glanced at Spain, but the pirate's expression was stern. "I am going with you."_

"_Okay." Belgium nodded. The two took off, ditching Spain. Eventually, after jogging for a few minutes, Belgium slowed when she noticed that England was starting to lag behind. The boy stopped, panting, grateful for the break. Geez, his thigh burned. Belgium rested a hand on his shoulder gently. "Are you okay?" she asked. "You're not hurt, are you?"_

_England nodded and collapsed to the ground. "Ow," he groaned. Bloody Spain. Bloody Prussia._

_Belgium knelt down next to him. "Are you okay? What hurts?"_

_Doing his best to ignore the sharp pain, England shifted his right leg. Belgium nodded in understanding and properly took a seat on the ground next to him. England grimaced, sitting up. "Shouldn't we be going after your brother?" he inquired._

"_Not if you can't walk," she said._

"_I can walk."_

_She grinned. "You know, you really are cute."_

_England huffed. "I'm not cute."_

"_You are." She reached over and patted his head softly. "Especially when you're all huffy and out of breath and denying that you're cute."_

"_I'm not."_

"_You are."_

"_No, I am not."_

"_Well," Belgium stood up and stretched, "are you ready to go? To find my idiot brother, that is. I have an idea of where he might be."_

"_Now?"_

"_Can you walk?"_

_England got up slowly, testing his weight on his leg. "I suppose so."_

_They went off again, Belgium in the lead, silent aside from occasionally asking England if he needed any help, which the boy denied even though he did. Not that he'd ever admit it aloud. There was absolutely no way. He nearly ran into Belgium when she stopped abruptly. Curiously, he peered around her and saw Netherlands. The older man looked back at them, somewhat defiantly. "I told you, I'm not joining your crew," he said curtly._

_They were standing in a crossroad of sorts in the alleys. England frowned. "Why?" the boy asked. "You said that you wouldn't if Spain had—"_

"_Exactly. You just answered your own question, boy."_

_England bristled at the word – hadn't he been called that enough lately? – and continued, "–anything to do with it. And I have a name." Netherlands didn't say anything, he just stood there staring stoically at England. "It isn't Spain's crew, it's mine. Spain may be putting it together, but that's all he has to do with it, okay? You can do whatever you want – I really couldn't care less about this entire thing – but at least take that fact into consideration… Please."_

_Netherlands' gaze turned interested. "If you don't care then why are you doing it?"_

"_I don't have much of a choice," England muttered. "So are you in or not? Because if not, then I have better ways that I could be wasting my time."_

"_I suppose, as long as you are sure it doesn't have to do with Spain."_

_England let out a breath of relief. Finally, it was over – or so he thought. Now he just had to figure out how to act as captain when Spain left. Easier said than done. There was no way that England was looking forward to it._


	21. Hidden Demons

**A/N: And now for the Indictment Arc. Haha... Tragic.**

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><p>America couldn't help but to laugh. "Short Stack?"<p>

England debated punching him, but settled on shooting the admiral a dark glare. "No, no. It isn't funny. He literally called me that for years. It was horrible."

"Can't blame him; you _are_ short," America pointed out.

What was keeping England from punching America? He took a deep breath. No, it was best not to let his temper get the best of him. If he did, who knows what America would do to annoy him. "Git," England muttered, the only outward sign of his agitation.

America was honestly surprised that England had actually told him all of that. He hadn't be expecting much when he'd asked, and he could only come up with two reasons why the pirate would confide in him. One, England found America highly annoying as is. Or two, England trusted America. The former seemed most likely.

"So, your own first mate tried to kill you? Some crew you have."

England snorted. "He wasn't trying to kill me. If he was, then I would not be here right now. He was merely trying to make me flinch."

America grinned. "Whatever you say, Short Stack." This time, England did punch him. America jumped back, cradling his arm. "Ouch! What was that for?"

"Don't call me that. If you do, I just might have to drown you in a pool of your own blood."

"But–"

"Don't."

"Then can I call you something else?"

England frowned. "Like what?"

"Um…" What was that other name? On the pocket watch? "Arthur…?"

"Arthur…" England's eyebrows furrowed. "No, don't call me that, either."

America huffed. "Then what can I call you?"

"My name would be nice."

"Fine, my name."

England hardly kept from punching him again. "England. Call me England, like you always do. Got it?"

"But is that even your name?"

"Who cares if it's my name or not? That's what I go by, and that's what you'll call me. That's what you _do_ call me. Okay? Can you deal with that?"

Maybe. But England sounded so… irked at him, and it made America almost want to apologize. Almost. The admiral understood that England's past was a touchy subject for him, but his was too. Not that he would tell England that, since America didn't want to talk about his own personal demons. Because demons were unheroic.

America nodded. "I can deal."

"Good."

"England…"

"Hm?"

"Thanks."

England blinked. "For what?"

America smiled lightly. "Everything, you know? Yelling at me to spend some time with Canada, telling me all of this, and just for being here and putting up with me. It means a lot. I know that I bother you, so the fact that you talk to me like this just makes me feel really… happy, and like I'm worth someone's attention." He glanced at England, realizing that the pirate was staring at him as if he were on fire. "I – err, what I mean to say is… just… thanks." He played with his fingers in his lap while waiting for England to respond.

"Um, n-no problem," England finally stammered out. America didn't miss the color in his cheeks. "But you know, I really haven't had a choice but to… oh, never mind."

America shrugged it off with a laugh. He really didn't like being in over-emotional situations. "Anyway, how about getting something to eat? Canada made pancakes for breakfast this morning, but that was a few hours ago. I'm starving!"

England sighed. "Of course you are hungry. It's you. Why wouldn't you be hungry? Fine, let's go get food."

Excited, America jumped up. "Yeah, let's go!"

Much calmer about it than the admiral, England stood, walking towards the door. America led him to the kitchen, but stopped abruptly in the doorway of the dining room. What was Spain doing here? England tapped him on the shoulder and warm breath hit America's ear. "Antonio," England whispered. "Call Spain Antonio."

America didn't even get a chance to nod before eyes turned to him. "There you are, America," China addressed. Spain stood next to him. "This man says he knows you, aru."

"Yeah." America grinned. "Antonio, long time no see."

Spain smiled. _"Si, y tu._ I was hoping we could spend some time catching up."

America stared pleadingly at China, who nodded slowly. "Fine, go do something," China allowed. He glanced at England as if he'd just noticed that the pirate was there. "You can… I'll go find Lithuania, I suppose, aru."

The admiral pumped a fist in the air. "All right! I know this really awesome restaurant, so we could go there."

Spain agreed and they set off, chatting politely until they got to the restaurant and ordered their food. Then they both turned serious. Or at least as serious as they could get at the moment. _"¿Cómo estás? E Inglaterra. ¿Qué pasa?"_

"Uh…" America blinked, confused. "What?"

"What happened?" Spain clarified. "Why is _Inglaterra_ at the navy base?"

"Ingla… ter… ra?"

"England."

"Oh. Oh! Right. I knew that." America laughed. "Yeah. Um, anyway, you know about our meeting, right? France followed me there – the bastard – and that's how he got caught, because he didn't want to lead France back to his crew – stupid heroic pirate – so yeah. He got China to agree to let him walk around the base as long as he has a guard. Hm, anything else… The scar on his shoulder is really cool looking. I got him to tell me about how he became captain, too. And, uh… that's it, I think."

Spain nodded slowly. "Ah, so he must really trust you, si?"

America shook his head. "No, I doubt that."

The pirate leaned forward. "_América_, I know _Inglaterra_ probably better than anyone alive. No, scratch the probably. I can tell when he begins to trust a person and lets his guard down around them. You," he pointed at America, "are one of the people England trusts."

"O-oh, okay."

"I know you don't quite believe me, but it's true, even if England doesn't realize it himself. So that just leaves the final question I have for you: how much do you care about _Inglaterra_?"

"How much I care about England…" Good question. "I… don't have an answer to that, really. I consider him my friend, but as far as caring about him goes… I have no idea."

"Then you care about him that much. People generally tend to care about their friends."

"Yeah, you're right."

Spain snorted. "_Yo siempre tengo la razón. _At least when it comes to _Inglaterra."_

~0~0~0~

"_Vous avez besoin de faire quelque chose."_

China looked up at France, sighing. "I need to do a lot of things, aru. Would you care to be more specific?"

"About the _maudit_ pirate," France spat.

"France, don't you think you might be a bit biased because of what happened with your parents?"

"That has nothing to do with this. That doesn't change the fact that he's a pirate, and that doesn't change the fact he's brainwashing our little Amerique."

"I never said that changed any of that, aru," China reasoned. "I know that I need to do something about England. I've been thinking about that, but I can't just make a brash decision about it. He's not an ordinary pirate, aru. That's why I've been putting careful thought into what the best choice would be on what to do with him."

"_Oui, je sais._ You want to find something out from him. Or about him. But do you really think that you can trust him? _Pour__l'amour de Dieu_, he's still a pirate! Even if he is different he still kidnapped Amerique and piracy in and of itself is still a crime."

"I know, aru."

~0~0~0~

Three hours. Spain and America have been gone for three bloody hours. What the hell could they possibly be talking about? Whatever; England didn't care. Much. He could be patient. Lithuania and Canada have taken over watching him (somewhat awkwardly). At one point, France had walked by and shot England a dirty look. Stupid frog.

Anyway, the two cheerful idiots still weren't back yet. It was annoying but expected. What wasn't expected, however, was when China entered the room, staring straight at England and looking grim. All he had to say was a single sentence.

"England, after careful thought and consideration, I've reached my decision: On accounts of piracy and the kidnapping of an admiral, in one week's time you are to be executed by hanging."


	22. From the Dark

**A/N: I... love all of you. You people have no idea how happy it makes me when I see that I have even one review for this story. Let alone four for one chapter. Wow, I'm a loser. Don't bother contradicting me on that statement, you will lose. You guys are amazing. Truly.**

**And now, for you:**

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><p>"So, what was your motivation to make England captain? Like, why did you do it?"<p>

If America had to guess, he'd say that they've been at the restaurant for a few hours. Although since he wasn't paying attention to the time, he wasn't sure. He hoped England was doing fine. America shook his head mentally. No, England could handle himself, so of course he was fine. The pirate didn't need America to hold his hand all the time.

Spain tilted his head slightly. "I had… reasons to. It wasn't a bad choice. In fact, it turned out better than I had expected. Not that I doubted England's judgment."

America blinked. "But it was your judgment, wasn't it? Or at least, England made it seem as if you were making most of the decisions on what to do and when. So it wasn't his judgment, was it? Other than him wandering off and getting into trouble? And, uh, what reasons?"

"Oh, just reasons." Spain smiled mysteriously. "They aren't of any importance at the moment, _mi amigo."_

"Um, okay. Well, I guess we should get going. We don't want people missing us."

"_Si,_ we should."

~0~0~0~

"So why the sudden decision?" England question calmly as China, walking behind him, lead him to a holding cell.

China frowned, thoroughly perplexed. England was a strange one, he knew, but China had thought that the pirate would show some kind of emotion or even struggle. But no, he just accepted his fate compliantly, as if he'd been expecting this – and he probably had been. There was certainly something off about him. Too off. It was rather unnerving, to say the least. China thought that he must be the captain of a ship like the Union Jack for a reason. The Union Jack… a ship China had forgotten about for so long… and a phrase even more buried… except for the boy…

Something in China's mind clicked. The boy must have been England – this England. That's why he was different. A small part of China began to further doubt his choice about the execution (surely he would want to keep him alive now), but he knew that it must be too late to call it off. If China had forgotten for this long, then surely…

"Hello?"

China barely stopped himself from running into England when the pirate stopped abruptly. England would have snapped his fingers in the fleet admiral's face had his hands not been bound. "All right? You just zoned out all of a sudden. I think you missed the turn you wanted."

The fleet admiral stared at him, utterly and hopelessly confused. Nothing about England made any sense to him. "You're not…" He glanced around him, realizing that England was right. "Err, y-yes, correct, aru."

Absolutely nothing.

~0~0~0~

America was sure that he'd heard Canada wrong. He had to have. There was no other explanation. England couldn't be…

"…executed," Canada said again. "Sorry, America, but the boss said so. In a week, England—"

"He can't be executed!" America blurted out.

No no no no no no, it couldn't be happening. It simply couldn't. It had to be a dream. That's it; this was all just a horrible dream. England was perfectly safe and sound, and America was dreaming. Yup, it was a dream that would be over as soon as he woke up. Simply a terrible dream from the darkest reaches of his subconscious that loved to torture him endlessly. Ha ha, of course England wasn't going to be executed. Silly dreams, making him think such things.

Canada shook his brother by the shoulders. "America, snap out of it. Just because you don't want it to happen doesn't mean that it won't."

~0~0~0~

_Alfred was the one to break the new to Matthew about their mother's death. It was the worst thing he'd ever done – worse than the time he accidently broke Mattie's arm. It wasn't only painfully emotionally, but it hurt physically, too, like a dull pain in his chest and the pounding in his head when he first realized it. Why couldn't he do anything? It hurt more than when their father left them as kids._

_Mattie clutched to his older brother for dear life, sobs wracking his body. Alfred wished he could join Mattie in grieving, but his tears were already dry. Besides, he had to put on a brave face for his brother, because who else could they depend on now? If Mattie couldn't count on Alfred to be strong for the both of them, then there was no way either of them could get past this. How could they?_

"_Don't worry, Mattie," Alfred murmured into his brother's soft hair. "I'm here for you, so don't worry about a thing, okay? I'm here… you can count on me."_

~0~0~0~

Reality hit America like a giant brick over his head. It certainly felt like it, too; he'd banged his head against the wall hard enough – multiple times. Reality was a bitch. It certainly loved to mess with everything America held dear. And piss all over it, too. Reality sucked. Reality definitely hated America, he was sure. All of this sucked.

It didn't help when France decided to show up, walking over to lean casually on the table next to him. "Why so glum, _Amerique?"_ he asked innocently.

"Shut it, France," America snapped.

France smirked. "Is it something to do about that pirate?"

"What do you care? And what do you even know about England?"

"Oh," the captain whistled. "So you really do care about the execution? You must be close with him, then? I wasn't aware that you were so fond of pirates, _mon ami_. This is news."

America frowned. "We're not that close." And if they were, why would he tell France that? "And I'm not fond of pirates, though I'm even less fond of the execution—"

"Because it's _England's_ execution?" France cut in. "Are you sure you're not close to him, _Amerique?"_

England's name sounded dirty coming out of France's mouth. America frowned. "Go away."

Franked clicked his tongue. "Do you actually think that you can do something? Remember what I said: You can't help him, no matter what. Save yourself the trouble and don't bother trying. He's a pirate – he shouldn't be saved anyway." With that, he took off as if he'd never spoken to America at all.

America had to help England. He _had_ to. England was his friend, and America cared about him. Even if he was a pirate. What kind of hero could America hope to be if he couldn't protect the ones closest to him?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Oh China, what are you hiding? And Spain, too. Haha... secrets.**


	23. Author's Note, hurray!

**Yo, what up, peeps? Been a while, yeah? Yeah...**

**Anyway, greetings aside, I have an announcement. I'm going to continue this story starting weekly... Friday? Sound good? I have legit reasons for not being here for a long time, but the first two-thirds was procrastination. Woo!**

**But yes, it's been a long, long time, so if you want to continue to bear with me, I would recommend rereading parts you may have forgotten. I'm working on the chapters now, so... Yeah.**

**I love your faces and stay beautiful~!**

**Feel free to send me any questions, concerns, or comments, not necessarily in that order.**


	24. Proposal

**A/N: Heh heh, oops. So much for that last author's note. I hope no one's mad at me and that the wait was worth it. The next chapter is all typed up (and quite short), and after that, I'll update as fast as I feel up to. I have no real excuse other than the fact that I'm a lazy prick. Anywho~**

~0~0~0~

This sucked.

America collapsed into his bed, sighing. He had spent all day brainstorming how he would save England, but he had come up short. Well, he had come up with a lot of ideas; it was just that none of them were very heroic. America was going to help England, but he was going to do it in the most heroic way possible. Otherwise, what was the point?

He flinched when his head hit the pillow. Frowning, he sat up. There was something underneath it. America moved his pillow, and there it was

– his gun. The gun that England had threatened his with even though it was never actually loaded. What was it doing under his pillow? Whatever. It was too late at night and America was too tired to think about it. He moved the gun to his nightstand, laid back down, and promptly fell asleep.

~0~0~0~

Canada was worried about America.

He knew that France had spoken to his brother, but he didn't know what the captain had said. Whatever it was, though, it certainly upset America. The admiral had avoided everyone since then, and even Canada couldn't find him. Another obvious factor was how much America cared about England. Hopefully America wouldn't do something stupid to try and stop the execution. That would be bad.

That would be very bad.

~0~0~0~

By the time America woke up, the gun was pushed to the very back of his mind. Instead of wondering why it was there, he went to the kitchen to make breakfast. He wasn't surprised when Canada was there, too. "Hey, bro," America greeted.

Canada looked up, and America couldn't read his expression. "Er, hi, America. Are you… okay?"

"Okay?" America frowned. What was that supposed to mean? Oh, forget it. He didn't want to worry his brother. He grinned abruptly. "Of course I'm okay! Why wouldn't I be?"

Canada sighed. "Why would you be?"

"…Oh."

"America, I'm worried about you. I always am, especially in these past few weeks. I know you're a great person and all, and you care about England, but I don't see how you plan to help him. I hate to say it, but you can't save everyone

—"

"If you hate to say it, then don't," America snapped in a rare fit of anger. "You think I'm going to just mess up and do something stupid. It's that simple." Before Canada could defend himself, America turned on his heel and stormed back to his room. He threw himself back onto his bed with a huff. What a terrible day. Turning his head, he saw the gun.

He reached over and picked it up, finding that it somehow calmed him down. His eyes narrowed when he noticed something strange. The gun had been tampered with; quite obviously at that. America didn't get it at first, but then it clicked

– that and the placing must mean… He undid the loose screws and carefully removed the side plating, revealing a note. A note with the name of a dock written out in neat, fancy letters.

~0~0~0~

America was on a quest. Lucky for him, everyone else was busy with their own things, so they didn't notice his departure. Soon enough he was standing on an isolated dock, staring at a ship that he'd become unexpectedly familiar with

– the Union Jack.

"Yo, pretty boy!"

The admiral looked up at Prussia's voice, seeing the pirate standing on the deck of the ship. "Hey!"

"What brings you? News of our captain?" Prussia called.

"Yeah!"

"Come aboard then," Prussia said, gesturing to the plank that ran from the dock to the deck. America went over and climbed it, watching his step, and met Prussia. "What is this news you say you bring?"

America hesitated. What did England want him to do?

When America didn't respond, Prussia spoke again, "Does it have to do with your meeting? Or the fact that England's sitting at your pretty little navy base? I can't think of any other reason you'd be here. And I'm awesome, so it has to be one of my ideas."

"Execution," America said reluctantly. "England has been put up for execution."

Prussia hardly seemed surprised. "Is that all?"

"Is that all? What do you mean 'is that all'?"

"Exactly that." Prussia shrugged, bored. "He's a pirate, after all. Did you expect any different? Just because you like being his friend doesn't mean that everyone else will. I'm glad they don't, that would be incredibly unawesome. Anyway, England is strong. Surely you've realized that, pretty boy. No execution is going to change that. Not that it isn't nice of you to come and share the news..."

"You could at least look a little more concerned!" America shouted in frustration, tugging at his hair. "He's your captain!"

The pirate snorted. "Great observation skills you have there. But what does that have to do with anything?"

The admiral stared at him blankly, agitation flickering in his eyes. "He's your captain," he repeated through gritted teeth. "Are you telling me that means nothing to you? You've been his first mate for years and you can't even be worried about him? The fact that he's being put up for execution means nothing to you? England, the person who saved you from being a drunken bum with a bunch of 'friends' who think they're all that, the person who gave you the chance to be someone amazing, and you're going to let that be thrown away so easily?"

"Of course it means something to me!" Prussia protested, but America wasn't finished yet.

"But you're not even going to at least pretend to care or do anything about it?" the hero went on. "I hardly know him and I'm giving my all to try and help him. That's why I even came here in the first place, but for what? You obviously don't care. If you did, you would-"

"Of course I care about him!" The pirate's hand rested itself on the hilt of his sword, itching to lash out. "What gives you the right to come here and tell me that I don't?"

"I meant-"

"Alright boys, break it up!" Belgium's voice interjected before things had a chance to get out of hand. "What are you two idiots even bickering about? Prussia, calm down and let go of your sword. America, I understand that you're upset, but that doesn't give you the right to come over and start arguments. How'd you find us, anyway? This place is so remote that I nearly got lost getting here."

Both men nodded sheepishly. "England left me a note with the name of the dock, so I figured that this is where he wanted me to come. I don't know why. And it's not that confusing if you're used to it," America explained.

Prussia tilted his head in thought. "When did you find the note?"

"Yesterday... Er, last night."

"When was the execution announced?"

"The day before, sometime in the afternoon."

"Where did you find the note?"

"Under my pillow."

"And it wasn't there the night before?"

"I'm not sure, I never went to bed that night."

"Did it occur to you that someone else may have left the note to set you up?"

"But- But I would've recognized the handwriting! And the way it was hidden had England's work all over it."

"Is that so?"

"Yes! And by the way, how did you know about the meeting?"

"Spain may have mentioned it to the aweso-"

"Meeting?" Belgium inquired, raising her eyebrows.

"Uh..."

The albino looked over at America. "Speaking of you, shouldn't you be back at your pretty little navy base? Are you allowed out- or rather, to be here?"

"No," the admiral admitted, slumping his shoulders.

Belgium rolled her eyes. "Right. Prussia's just too hard to resist, then?" she mumbled sarcastically under her breath.

"Exactly?" Prussia stood up straighter, clearing his throat. "How can my awesomeness possibly be in question?"

"I question everything about you," she informed him with a straight face. "Including your-"

"Uh, guys?" America cut them off. "Hate to interrupt, but I really should be going."

"'Kay."

"Bye."

~0~0~0~

America sighed. Sneaking back into the base had been surprisingly easy, but that fact did nothing to settle his nerves. They had an execution to prepare for, an execution that America had no idea how to stop. Everything that crossed his mind was decidedly illegal and unheroic, and taking action would only put his own life at risk. Was he willing to do that for England - a pirate that he knew nothing about?

No. He knew that there was something within his power that would help. He knew that he could save England. He knew that there was a way. He was startled out of his self-pep talk by a familiar voice behind him.

"Ah, America! Just who I wanted to see, aru."

America turned to see China walking up behind him and immediately bowed. "Yes, sir?" As he stood up straight to meet his boss's gaze, he had no idea how to feel about the man. China was the one who gave the order for the execution. Didn't that mean that China was his enemy?

China stopped two feet away from him. "I've been thinking, aru." He paused as though waiting for a response, and America simply nodded. "You're determined to stop the execution, correct?" The only thing that made it a question was the added word at the end. Of course he wanted to stop it. Was he in some sort of trouble for disobeying his fleet admiral? "So, I have a proposal for you. If you can think of a good reason for why the pirate shouldn't be executed, I'll call it off."

"His name is England," the younger man said immediately. It took a few minutes for the words to sink in. "Wait... You mean that I'm allowed to...?"

China smiled and nodded. "Yes, aru. Good luck, then." With that, he waved and departed, leaving America completely dumbfounded.


End file.
